Power doesn't corrupt people, people corrupt power.

Power is like a flame: it burns neither good nor evil by its nature, but takes its shape from the hands that wield it. When William Gaddis proclaimed, “Power doesn’t corrupt people, people corrupt power,” he shattered the illusion that authority itself is the root of destruction. Power is a tool, a neutral force, waiting to be directed by the virtue or vice of those who grasp it. It is not the throne that breeds tyranny, but the heart of the one who sits upon it. Thus, the burden of justice lies not in the structure of power, but in the soul of the ruler.

This idea echoes through the wisdom of the ancients. The Greeks spoke of hubris, the arrogance that leads men to misuse power. They did not blame kingship itself, but the failure of men to govern their desires. In China, the Mandate of Heaven was believed to be lost when rulers allowed greed and cruelty to cloud their judgment. Gaddis, a modern voice, simply reframed this timeless teaching: power is innocent until it is shaped by human corruption. It is we, not the throne, who breathe either life or poison into the systems we create.

History offers a vivid tale in the fall of the Roman Republic. The senate, once a body of shared governance, became corrupted not by the concept of power itself, but by the ambition of men like Julius Caesar and Pompey, who bent institutions to serve their own glory. The same tools that had protected Rome for centuries became weapons of domination. It was not power that corrupted them, but their own lust for control, their willingness to twist power into a reflection of their greed.

In contrast, there are rare leaders who show that power can be wielded with integrity. George Washington, after leading his army to victory, could have claimed kingship. Instead, he relinquished his authority, stepping away from power when the world expected him to cling to it. His actions revealed that power, in the hands of the virtuous, can remain untainted. It is not a curse, but a mirror of the one who holds it.

The lesson for future generations is clear: fear not the throne, the crown, or the scepter, but fear the hearts of men who approach them. Guard your spirit, for the true battlefield is within. If men are noble, power becomes a beacon of justice. If men are corrupt, power becomes a blade of tyranny.

Therefore, let this teaching endure: it is not enough to reform laws and systems while leaving the human soul unchanged. Seek to purify the heart, for only through the inner victory of virtue can power remain a servant of the people rather than their master. In this way, Gaddis’s words call us to a higher duty—not to despise power, but to master ourselves.