The real problem is that the way that power is given out in our

Hear the words of Anita Hill, spoken out of deep trial and moral courage: “The real problem is that the way that power is given out in our society pits us against each other.” These words, born in the crucible of injustice and testimony, are not idle reflections. They are a lament and a warning, pointing to the fractures within human communities where power is treated not as stewardship, but as a weapon, not as service, but as a prize that divides.

The meaning is clear: when power is distributed unjustly, it ceases to bind a people together and instead sets them against one another. Those who hold it grow fearful of losing it, those without it grow desperate to grasp it, and thus competition becomes hostility. Instead of harmony, there is suspicion; instead of cooperation, there is betrayal. Society, when ordered this way, is like a house where the beams are placed not to support one another but to crush the weight upon those below. Such a house cannot stand for long.

Consider the ancient story of Rome, where power became concentrated in the Senate and the elite. Ordinary citizens, denied dignity and justice, grew restless, and leaders rose who sought not peace but dominance. Brothers like Tiberius and Gaius Gracchus tried to share land and resources more fairly, but their efforts were met with violence. The Republic, unable to balance its power, crumbled into civil war and was reborn as empire. Rome’s greatness endured in stone, but its liberty was lost, for its citizens had been turned against one another by the unequal hand of authority.

Anita Hill’s own life testifies to the truth of her words. When she spoke of harassment in the halls of power, the struggle was not merely personal but systemic. It revealed how power was used to silence rather than protect, to divide rather than unify. In that moment, society showed its fault lines: women against men, victims against institutions, truth against convenience. Her courage exposed how an unjust distribution of power forces individuals to fight for dignity where dignity should have been safeguarded from the start.

The wisdom here is timeless. Power is not evil in itself—it is a tool, like fire. In the hearth, fire warms; in the wild, fire consumes. So too with power: when shared with justice, it sustains communities; when hoarded or corrupted, it destroys trust and breeds endless strife. A just society is one where power strengthens bonds, but an unjust society is one where power pits neighbor against neighbor, worker against worker, and even family against family.

The lesson, O seeker, is this: if we wish to build a world of harmony, we must rethink how power is given and used. Do not seek it only for yourself, nor celebrate it when it crushes another. Instead, ask always: does this distribution of power lift the weak, protect the vulnerable, and serve the common good? Or does it deepen division and provoke hostility? For the fate of any community rests not on the strength of its rulers, but on the fairness of its bonds.

Therefore, take practical action: in your own life, use your influence not to dominate, but to uplift. In your workplaces, demand fairness, not favoritism. In your communities, speak for those who are silenced. And in your nations, choose leaders who see power not as privilege, but as responsibility. By doing so, you loosen the chains of division and strengthen the cords of unity.

So let Anita Hill’s words endure: “The real problem is that the way that power is given out in our society pits us against each other.” Let them remind us that justice is not only in laws, but in the ways we arrange our relationships. When power divides, freedom perishes; but when power unites, a people can endure anything. This is the teaching, and it is a torch to be carried into the generations yet to come.