Shifting Power Dynamics through the Sustainable Development Goals

Reflections on the fractal of social power

POWER (pou-er), n. — the ability to do or act (Latin potere — “to be powerful, able, possible”);

A power dynamic between two people is the ability of one person to influence the other. Our world is shaped by power dynamics, as the micro power dynamics between two people build to make the meso and macro power dynamics seen in our family structures and institutions.

One only has to take a slight step outside of herself to take note of the power dynamics throughout the world. Who has power? What does power look like? How do we define it, and therefore what does that say about our values?

I believe the current power dynamics of our world — in terms of socioeconomic and political opportunity — are out of balance. I see us being stuck in a patriarchal cycle in which power is vertically distributed and based on a zero-sum mentality. While this has helped us become the globalized world we are today, its time has passed and no longer serves our greatest good. Between the effects of climate change, social inequality, and corruption we as a people are asking, “How can we build on our current system to make it better for everyone?”

Luckily the United Nations has been thinking about this question and offers a global framework as part of the answer. Last September, in the most inclusive process to date, member states adopted the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) — a normative framework that calls on the world to redirect the way in which we think about economic development. It asks us to figure out ways to build prosperity without compromising the Earth and her people.

Power dynamics in action

Now as we work to bring the UN’s agenda to the ground it’s time for us to see what within our purview needs to be realigned. I recently toured Riker’s Island — the world’s largest jail complex. It sits on an island in the New York City area and has the capacity to hold 15,000 inmates (for perspective, Europe’s largest correctional facility holds 3,800 inmates). These numbers explain the continual advocacy for criminal justice reform within my country. With the world’s second highest incarceration rate that makes up 22% of the world’s total incarcerated population (in comparison to being only 4.4% of the world’s population), the need for reform is higher than ever.

Many social justice advocates believe we need to transition to a more rehabilitative correctional system in the United States; an approach based on human rights that understands the systemic drivers of criminal behavior, and its connection to our larger socioeconomic system.

I value this concept because to me it’s the idea that a form of compassion can heal, and that our institutions can provide that type of healing. It’s a form of radical love that offers individuals dignity. I feel I have received this type of nurturance from society — through school, my family’s ability to support a decent lifestyle, extracurricular activities and the encouragement to be creative.

As I toured the island I reflected on this rehabilitative approach. My main take-away from the experience was that “it’s complicated.” Like all elements of the world we live in, what we surmise from studies and hypothesize about in classrooms are not always straightforward in the real world.

The essence of the rehabilitative approach is true — nurturance begets nurturance, and providing basic needs creates healthy, productive members of society. And while this is the case in the vacuum of my mind in which this thought experiment exists, in the reality of this interconnected world it’s hard to figure out how to integrate the rehabilitative approach into areas of society with antisocial behavior. We live in a world in which poor, marginalized groups are at a systematic disadvantage due to centuries of development that has been built off of the free-to-cheap labor of their ancestors. From this starting point, where does radical love fit in?

“Everywhere!” My inner voice screams. “Everywhere you possibly can!” This feels right… But my experience at Riker’s creeps up and makes me think twice.

We began our tour in “The Garden” — an urban farming and eco-therapy program put on by the NYC Horticultural Society. It works with around 30 inmates, all of whom have qualified as the best behaved. Talking to the female inmates in the garden, my rehabilitative perspective on criminal reform was validated. These were individuals I related to, saw myself in, and sympathized with.

The next portion of our tour was in a male jailhouse. Our first stop was at a ward within the facility that houses general inmates — inmates who don’t have mental health issues nor who are confined to punitive segregation due to violent activity. The Assistant Warden told us they were her favorites — they liked to work, they kept in line. We walked into the ward to see about 10 men sitting around picnic-like tables in the center common area — TV on, head phones in, dominos being played.

I entered the male ward with the rehabilitative perspective on my sleeve. In this instance it means acknowledgement of my fellow human. The energy I received back, directly towards me and in general, was quite different and a stark contrast from what I felt in the garden. It was heavy, thick, and stoic. There was no penetrating that wall. My openness to human connection — even if just through eye contact — immediately turned into feeling unsafe and exposed; as if it was seen as something that could be taken advantage of. An unmistakable feeling.

Afterwards I spoke with a female guard who joined us for the tour. She wore her hair back and had light lipstick on. A lot of female guards did not wear make-up, they kept their looks androgynous. I asked her how it was for her to spend 8+ hours a day here; what it was like for her emotionally? If she ever felt conflicted about the type of relationship she has to have with the inmates — one that’s cold and guarded? If it’s confusing at times, having to deploy interpersonal skills that somewhat dehumanize the inmates?

She said, “Although some of these guys may wave and smile at you as you visit, when you’re gone it’s different. You (meaning the general public) don’t know what they’re like to us (the officers). We have to act this way.” Her remark was driven home by accounts of inmates calling her over because they needed something, when in reality, one minute in, she realizes they were using her as a sexual outlet. An affirmation of the unmistakable feeling I had earlier — offering help and being taken advantage of.

Parallels between the local and global

The experience at Riker’s Island showed me how complicated it is to integrate a rehabilitative approach into a jail system due to our society’s deeply engrained power dynamics. The cycle between how inmates treat officers, and officers treat inmates is one in which I don’t see a clear opening for influence. It leads me to wonder how we can break this pattern of coldness, abuse, and strong-arming each other for power.

I saw it played out in the dynamics of the jail, and I see it played out in the geopolitics of our globalized world. I have a strong hunch that what goes on in Rikers won’t change until what goes on within our business, finance and governance systems change. In an economic, sociopolitical system in which people and planet are constantly being taken advantage of, how can we expect anything else from the people it produces?Especially the people who have been most sorely forgotten within it. This is what the Sustainable Development Goals calls us to think about.

Perhaps my generation and the next two or three to follow will continue to see this power dynamic play out among people. Perhaps we won’t be able to do anything in this lifetime except distribute as many Band-Aids and IOU notes as possible. But perhaps, if my generation takes our role of shepherding a new paradigm of economic development seriously; if we choose to be moral leaders who think, act and work to promote inclusion, then maybe four or five generations from now we’ll see a system that was grown from that rehabilitative approach. A system grown from radical love instead of fear and self-aggrandizement.

This is the potential of our world and the potential of the Sustainable Development Goals. It’s no coincidence that the word “potential” is derived from the same Latin root as “power.” The fact that 193 UN country leaders see the potential in this type of power shift gives me hope that it can become a reality.

Hi, I’m Liz Moyer Benferhat. Writer, facilitator, coach, and development practitioner dedicated to the subtle interplay between how inner transformation feeds the outer transformation we need in the world. Welcome 🌿