Tilting the Scales: How Power is Being Stacked Against Democracy
- Evelyn J. Kim
- Feb 23
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 19
With the leader of a coup grasping control of our country, many Americans are faced with the complicated idea of authoritarianism in our government. While a full dictatorship remains unlikely, the country is sliding toward competitive authoritarianism, a system where elections still occur but incumbents manipulate state power to tilt the playing field against opponents. Rather than abolishing democracy outright, competitive autocrats systematically weaken it. Leaders like Hugo Chávez, Vladimir Putin, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and Viktor Orbán have used state institutions to entrench their rule, filling key agencies with loyalists, undermining oversight, and shielding allies from prosecution. The current president, Donald Trump, has followed closely in their path, whether it be seeking to purge civil servants, politicizing investigations, or consolidating power over government agencies.
A core strategy of competitive authoritarianism is capturing referees in the exercise of replacing independent officials with loyalists in agencies that oversee elections, justice, and regulation. Trump has fired or forced out the FBI director, IRS commissioner, and multiple inspectors general, reissued policies stripping job protections for civil servants, and expanded hiring powers to install allies.
These moves mirror tactics used in Venezuela, Hungary, and Turkey, where elected autocrats neutralized independent oversight and turned government agencies into weapons against the opposition. Once state institutions are captured, they can be deployed against critics. In the U.S., this could mean using the Justice Department, FBI, and IRS to investigate political rivals, media organizations, or business leaders who challenge the administration. Even without convictions, investigations alone can damage reputations, drain financial resources, and deter future dissent. When a democracy starts to crack, it often begins with warning shots. Think of high-profile cases against figures like Liz Cheney or major news outlets. These aren't just isolated incidents, but signals that can ripple through newsrooms and boardrooms across the country, making people think twice before speaking up.
The pattern becomes clearer when you look at how pardons for January 6 participants and the removal of prosecutors handling those cases send a powerful message: political violence might go unchecked. This echoes a dark chapter in American history, during Jim Crow, when authorities turned a blind eye to white supremacist groups, effectively giving them free rein to use violence and fraud to maintain their power. We're seeing similar hesitation today among America's business titans. When Jeff Bezos, Tim Cook, and Mark Zuckerberg tiptoe in silence around political issues, it's not just corporate caution; it's a calculation about survival. This ripple effect tends to spread: universities quiet down, media outlets soften their coverage, and civil society groups carefully watch their steps.
But here's what should worry us most: it's not just the visible retreats like the early retirements of politicians or the shuttering of newsrooms. It's the quiet decisions we never see. The brilliant law student who decides corporate law is safer than public service. The sharp-minded journalist who sticks to covering sports instead of politics. The insider who spots corruption but keeps their head down. These invisible losses slowly drain the lifeblood from democratic institutions.
Yet this isn't a foregone conclusion. Unlike leaders like Bukele or Chávez, who rode waves of popular support, Trump's approval has consistently struggled to break 50 percent. His legal challenges, public resistance, and electoral opposition could still derail authoritarian ambitions. But there’s one catch: it only works if people stay in the fight because democracy isn't just about one leader or moment; it's about whether enough people will keep showing up to protect democratic institutions, even when it gets uncomfortable, especially when it begins to devolve into something else. History shows us that democracy doesn't usually end with a bang, but with slow surrender to exhaustion and fear, and when that fatigue leads to retreat, that's when democracy truly begins to fade.
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