When power starts suing its way through democracy

As a citizen journalist, one of the key things I write about is abuse of power. It shows up in local councils, institutions, corporations and political systems. It shows up wherever people with status, money or authority decide the rules should protect them more than the public.

Watching court case after court case announced by the Trump administration, I cannot think of a clearer modern example.

Its become an embedded governing style. As of 20 March 2026, Lawfare was tracking 233 active cases challenging Trump administration actions and 22 suits brought by the administration against states or local governments. Reuters reported on 20 March that the administration had also sued Harvard, seeking to recover billions in federal funds over allegations of antisemitism.

This scale shows how lawsuits work far beyond the courtroom. They operate in the imagination. Every new case carries a message. If you resist, this can become expensive. If you push back, we can drain your time, your focus and your resources. Even when a defendant eventually wins, the punishment has already started.

A courtroom becomes a theatre of intimidation. The people in the gallery take the message home.

The Harvard case lays out the playbook. Take an institution in public view, threaten its funding, force it into a costly fight and let everyone else watch. Universities will see exactly what is being demonstrated. So will every organisation tied to public money.

Australia uses a different model, and some parts of that model offer stronger democratic safeguards. We channel many disputes through administrative review rather than permanent courtroom war. The Administrative Review Tribunal recorded 59,752 lodgements between 14 October 2024 and 30 June 2025. 0 We have a structure that, at least in theory, allows citizens to challenge government decisions through review rather than spectacle.

Still, Australia leaves people exposed in another way. The Human Rights Law Centre says the ACT remains the only Australian jurisdiction with anti SLAPP laws, and even those protections are narrower than stronger overseas models. So while our politics may be less theatrical, wealthy people and powerful institutions can still use legal threat to intimidate critics, campaigners, journalists and ordinary citizens.

Abuse of power often arrives in polished form, a statement of claim, a demand for documents, a threat over costs, a lawyer’s letter written to sound reasonable while applying pressure. The language is formal. The intention is unmistakable.

Do what I want, or I will make this hurt.

A healthy democracy needs courts. It also needs limits on the use of law as a weapon. It needs strong anti SLAPP protections. It needs independent media. It needs citizens willing to keep speaking when power would prefer quiet.

That is one of the reasons I keep writing about abuse of power. Once you learn to recognise the pattern, you start seeing it everywhere.

Do stories about powerful men and sexual abuse keep you awake?

Stories about powerful men and sexual abuse surface with grim regularity. Court cases reopen. Investigations expand. Survivors speak after years of silence. Support networks mobilise around the accused. Each time, the details differ and the structure stays the same.

When I read about these cases, the response is physical. Grief for the survivors arrives first, for what they carried alone and for how long. Then comes a deeper ache, watching support groups for powerful men contort themselves into justification, language bending to protect status rather than truth. Alongside that sits the cold recognition that power has learned to normalise its own behaviour, to treat harm as collateral and entitlement as reason.

and this

Across these cases, women are treated as surfaces rather than people. Their bodies become terrain. Their consent becomes negotiable. Their pain becomes background noise. Power trains itself to expect access and compliance, then reacts with disbelief or rage when either is withdrawn. What shocks many observers is the brazenness. What repeats is the logic. Status rewrites the rules.

Women are framed as disposable, disbelievable, or dangerous once they disrupt entitlement. This is not about desire. It is about dominance, control, and the preservation of rank. When accountability threatens, women carry the cost first, through disbelief, delay, character attack, and isolation.

Threaded through it all is exhaustion of recognition. This pattern has appeared before. It appears again. History keeps looping, each time asking who will refuse to look away.

I interviewed a psychologist to help me make sense of what we are watching play out around Donald Trump. They stayed with the human mechanics rather than relitigating each allegation, the racist imagery aimed at Barack Obama and Michelle Obama, or the Epstein material. Those facts are well documented. The questions that keep me awake at night sit elsewhere. Why does support stay entrenched even when behaviour crosses lines that would end any other public career?

When I asked the psychologist “will understanding bring peace or restore sleep ?” the psychologist said

“Understanding may not soften care or the dull feeling. It helps gives you  a way to make sense of them. You still care. You still feel it. It gives you orientation. You know where to stand, where pressure has impact, and where stepping back preserves strength. Sleep patterns may stay the same, and your thinking can shift. When you are awake, your attention shifts. The mind spends less time circling and more time observing. Helplessness eases into alertness. You stop trying to solve everything. You take in what you have learned, piece by piece.

This is what I learnt.

When politics becomes identity, evidence loses its force

For many supporters, Trump functions less as a politician and more as an identity marker. Criticism feels like criticism of the self. Once politics shifts from preference to identity, facts lose leverage. Evidence triggers defence rather than evaluation.

People protect what they have invested themselves into

People seek material that confirms what they already believe and discard what threatens it. This operates as a protective reflex. Admitting wrongdoing requires revisiting years of emotional, social, and financial investment. The price feels too high.

Power grants itself exemptions without ever announcing them

Supporters grant a special licence. The internal logic goes unchallenged. He fights the people I hate. His behaviour becomes justifiable. Cruelty, corruption, and abuse get reframed as necessary weapons. Standards change without comment.

Dominance feels comforting when the world feels unstable

Trump projects certainty, dominance, and contempt for the status quo. For people carrying humiliation from social change, economic dislocation, or cultural loss, this offers relief. He promises order. The pull intensifies under stress.

The way powerful men treat women tells the real story

A deeper truth sits underneath the rest. These men often relate to women through entitlement rather than reciprocity. Women appear as instruments, rewards, risks to be managed, or problems to be silenced rather than full moral equals. Power distorts intimacy. Access replaces consent. Control substitutes for care. Hierarchy teaches permission, and repeated escapes thin consequences further. Empathy erodes. Boundary crossing becomes ordinary.

Conspiracy restores clarity when reality becomes uncomfortable

As allegations accumulate, conspiracy thinking offers relief. Courts, media, academics, prosecutors, and foreign governments merge into a single corrupt force. The leader stands alone as truth teller. Complexity collapses into certainty.

Belonging carries a higher price than truth

Support remains social. Churches, families, media ecosystems, and online communities reinforce shared frames. Leaving carries cost. Belonging, reputation, and connection sit on the line. Many choose group coherence over reality coherence.

Accountability elsewhere exposes tolerance at home

The investigation into Elon Musk in France punctures the myth of inevitability. When other systems hold powerful men to account, the degree of normalisation elsewhere becomes visible. That contrast hardens defence rather than inviting reflection.

Survival trains expectation

Power shields itself. Wealth, legal firepower, media saturation, and procedural delay blur consequences. Each scandal that ends without consequence trains everyone to expect nothing to change. It lowers the bar. Survival becomes assumed.

Change starts quietly

Many supporters see the racism. They sense the corruption. Loyalty feels easier than confronting what that recognition would demand of their judgement, their community, and their past choices. Movements weaken first at the edges. People stop posting. They stop arguing. They withdraw. Collapse begins there.

and now the most important part. How can we have impact?

The call to action is refusal

Refusal to normalise exemption.
Refusal to excuse abuse as strategy.
Refusal to accept that power equals immunity.

Name the pattern. Support institutions that still act. Protect journalists, survivors, and whistleblowers. Watch the quiet exits. That is where history shifts.