Strategic Cruelty Only Works If We Excuse It
The longer we justify the abuse of power, the more we lose—and we’re almost out of things to lose.
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There comes a point in every abusive dynamic when the abuser doesn’t even have to lie anymore. They can harm you in public, mock you on camera, brag about what they’ve taken—and still people will excuse it.
That’s where we are now.
Strategic cruelty is no longer hidden behind dog whistles or policy jargon. It’s loud. Proud. Broadcast live. And somehow, millions still rush to defend it, justify it, or pretend it’s just part of the “game.”
But this isn’t a game. It’s a takeover.
And while many of us still want to believe in a rational system, a functional democracy, a shared moral line—we’re waking up to the truth:
We are being ruled by those who believe cruelty is strength.
And millions of people—many good, kind, decent people—have been trained to follow that logic. Not because they’re evil, but because they’ve been conditioned to:
• Confuse punishment with protection
• Confuse loyalty with morality
• Confuse dominance with leadership
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We’ve Been Trained to Think Pain Earns Belonging
Back in high school in the late 1960s, I stood on the sidelines as a cheerleader—close enough to see everything. The football coach, like many back then, was a hard-ass. He humiliated the boys, pushed them to exhaustion, and ruled with fear. And they loved him for it.
Not because he inspired them—but because surviving him meant you belonged.
You earned your place through suffering.
You were part of the team not in spite of the cruelty, but because of it.
That was the culture: pain as proof of worth.
And that mindset stuck.
A lot of the people who defend Trump today grew up inside that logic. They learned early that obedience earns inclusion, that to question power is to betray the group, and that being hurt is just the price of being on the right team.
So when they’re lied to, gaslit, or discarded—they don’t rebel.
They double down.
Because they think, maybe next time I’ll do it right. Maybe next time, I’ll be worthy.
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But this isn’t a team. It’s a trap.
Strategic cruelty isn’t a phase. It’s not accidental. It’s a method of control.
It only works if we excuse it.
If we keep calling it patriotism, tradition, leadership.
If we keep pretending it’s not costing us anything.
But it is.
It’s costing us truth.
It’s costing us compassion.
It’s costing us our democracy.
You can’t fix this by explaining it away.
You can’t outlast it.
You can’t soften it by staying silent.
Because strategic cruelty doesn’t just test your boundaries.
It erases them.
And if we don’t stop excusing it, it will erase us too.



