Introduction: A misplaced assumption
We may be organizing far more of our institutions around an assumption that no longer quietly holds. That assumption is that power can be designed in advance—allocated through roles, formalized through titles, and stabilized through structures of authority and accountability. If the architecture is correct, if the responsibilities are well-defined, if the reporting lines are clear, then the capacity to act is presumed to follow.
This assumption has not been without merit. It has underpinned much of modern organizational life, particularly in contexts where the world presents itself as sufficiently stable, where problems can be bounded, and where action can be specified ahead of time. In such conditions, the allocation of roles is not only efficient, it is often effective. It allows coordination at scale. It reduces ambiguity. It enables institutions to function with continuity and reliability.
But this assumption carries with it a deeper claim, one that is rarely made explicit: that the terrain of action can be known in advance, and that the distribution of authority can meaningfully correspond to that terrain.
It is this claim that now begins to fracture.
In the environments we increasingly operate within—ecological, economic, technological, civic—the terrain does not hold still long enough to be fully mapped. The situations that matter most are not simply executed against; they emerge through interaction. They are dynamic, entangled, and often only partially legible at the moment action is required. Signals arrive incomplete. Conditions shift mid-course. The boundary between what is known and what must be acted upon blurs.
Under such conditions, the question of power becomes more difficult, and perhaps more interesting.
It is no longer sufficient to ask who holds authority within a predefined structure. The more precise question is whether the system, as designed, can generate the capacity to act appropriately in relation to situations that were not, and perhaps could not be, anticipated in advance.
There is a quiet provocation here. It may be that we have been treating power as something that can be engineered through structure, when in fact, in complex environments, structure can only ever approximate the conditions under which power might emerge.
If this is the case, then the challenge is not simply to improve how we allocate power. It is to reconsider whether power, in its most consequential form, is allocatable at all.
This suggests that the object of design may have been misplaced. Not incorrectly designed, but misidentified.
And if that is so, then the task is not to refine the existing model, but to ask a more unsettling question: what does it mean to design for power in a world where the conditions of action cannot be fully known in advance?
The limits of role-based power
Role allocation remains one of the most enduring and widely relied upon mechanisms for organizing collective action. It provides clarity. It allows responsibility to be named and located. It enables coordination across large groups of people who may not otherwise share context. It offers a way of stabilizing expectations—who decides, who acts, who is accountable.
There is a reason it persists. In environments where the terrain of action is relatively stable, role-based power works. It allows institutions to function with predictability and efficiency. It reduces ambiguity to manageable levels. It creates a shared map through which action can be coordinated without constant renegotiation.
But this effectiveness depends on a condition that is often left unexamined: that the map is sufficiently accurate to the terrain.
Role-based power assumes that the domains of action can be defined in advance. That responsibilities can be bounded. That authority can be attached to those boundaries in a way that remains valid as events unfold. It assumes that the most consequential situations an organization will face are already, in some meaningful sense, anticipated by its structure.
In complex systems, this assumption begins to erode.
The situations that demand the most attention are often precisely those that do not fit neatly within predefined roles. They emerge at the intersections of domains, or outside them altogether. They are ambiguous, evolving, and resistant to categorization. They require interpretation before they can be acted upon, and often demand action before that interpretation is complete.
In such conditions, roles continue to function—but their function changes. They become partial guides rather than complete containers of responsibility. They can indicate where accountability might sit, but they cannot fully determine how action should unfold.
This introduces a subtle but significant tension. The organization continues to operate as if power resides within roles, while the reality of action increasingly requires power to be exercised beyond, between, or in advance of those roles.
It is here that role-based power reveals its limit. Not because it is wrong, but because it is insufficient. It cannot fully accommodate the variability of a world that does not present itself in stable, pre-defined forms.
There is a further provocation embedded in this. If the most consequential actions in complex systems occur in spaces where roles are least informative, then the reliance on roles as the primary carrier of power may not just be incomplete—it may actively obscure where power is actually being constructed.
This does not imply that roles should be discarded. Rather, it suggests that their position in the architecture of power may need to be reconsidered. Not as the source of power, but as one of several supports around something more fluid, more situational, and less easily predefined.
The question then begins to shift. If roles cannot fully contain power in complex environments, what is it that actually does?
Power as constructed, not allocated
If the limits of role-based power are taken seriously, then the question that follows is not how to improve allocation, but whether allocation is the right object at all.
We may be working with a category error. The dominant model assumes that power is something that can be distributed: attached to roles, granted through authority, and exercised within predefined boundaries. In this model, power is treated as an organizational property—something that can be designed, assigned, and held.
The alternative being proposed here suggests something more unsettling. Power, in complex systems, may not exist in a form that can be meaningfully allocated in advance. It may not sit inside roles waiting to be activated. It may not be transferable as a discrete unit of authority.
Instead, power appears as something that is constructed in relation to situations. It emerges when individuals or groups are able to engage with the world as it presents itself—when they can interpret what is happening, orient themselves in relation to it, and act in ways that are coherent with both the situation and a wider purpose. This is not a static possession. It is an enacted capacity.
This reframing matters because it changes where we look for power.
In the traditional model, one looks to the structure: who has been given authority, who holds the role, who is formally responsible. In this alternative framing, one looks to the interaction between actor and situation: who is actually able to read what is emerging, to respond appropriately, and to take responsibility for action under conditions that are not fully known.
This is where the idea of pre-reaction becomes important. In complex systems, the most consequential actions often occur before situations are fully formed. There is a need to sense emerging dynamics—to respond to signals that are incomplete, ambiguous, or only partially visible. Power, in this sense, includes the capacity to act early, not just correctly. It requires a form of attentiveness that is difficult to codify and impossible to assign in advance.
This begins to reveal why power cannot simply be allocated. The capacities that make it possible—comprehension, expression, commitment, courage—are not static attributes. They are developed over time and enacted in context. They depend on how individuals and groups relate to the system, how they interpret what they encounter, and how they choose to engage.
One can assign a role. One can grant authority. But one cannot assign the lived capacity to respond appropriately to an unfolding situation. That has to be built.
There is a quiet inversion here. Instead of treating power as something that precedes action, we begin to see it as something that arises through action. Instead of assuming that structure generates power, we begin to see that structure can at best support the conditions under which power might be constructed.
This does not mean that allocation disappears. Organizations will continue to define roles, assign responsibilities, and establish authority. But these are no longer sufficient as explanations of where power resides.
Power is no longer what is given. It is what is brought into being in relation to the situation. And once that shift is made, the design problem changes accordingly.
From allocating power to designing conditions
If power is not something that can be reliably allocated in advance, but something that must be constructed in relation to unfolding situations, then the central problem of organization design shifts.
The question is no longer: who should be given power? The question becomes more demanding: under what conditions can power be constructed appropriately, where and when it is needed?
This is a change in the object of design. Most organizational systems are built around the distribution of authority. They attempt to decide, in advance, where decision-making should sit, how responsibility should be bounded, and how accountability should be enforced. Even where they seek to decentralize or empower, they often remain within this logic—redistributing authority more widely, but still treating it as something that can be pre-assigned.
The proposition here is that this approach, while still useful in certain contexts, is insufficient in complex environments. If power is situationally constructed, then it cannot be fully captured by predefinition. What can be designed, instead, are the conditions that make its construction possible.
This introduces a different design task—one that is less about specifying behavior and more about shaping the field within which behavior emerges.
The first of these conditions is space. Space is often misunderstood. It is not simply the absence of constraint, nor a gesture toward autonomy. It is the deliberate creation of room for interpretation, initiative, and action. It ensures that individuals and groups are not so tightly bound by predefined roles and permissions that they lose the capacity to engage with what is actually happening. Without space, action collapses into compliance. With space, there is the possibility of responsiveness.
The second condition is shared mission. In the absence of rigid prescription, coherence must be generated differently. A shared mission provides an orienting field that allows distributed actors to align their actions without requiring centralized control. It does not remove ambiguity, but it provides direction within it. It enables different parts of the system to act in ways that are not identical, but still coherent. Without mission, space fragments. With mission, space becomes directional.
The third condition is resources. The capacity to act is not only cognitive or relational; it is also material. Individuals and groups require access to time, tools, relationships, and institutional support. Without these, the invitation to act remains abstract. Capacity exists, but cannot be translated into effect. Without resources, power remains latent. With resources, it becomes actionable.
The fourth condition is knowledge. Knowledge, in this context, is not simply the transmission of information. It is the ongoing development of comprehension. To construct power in a complex system, one must be able to understand that system—its dynamics, its signals, its constraints, and its possibilities. This understanding cannot be centralized if action is to be distributed. It must be cultivated across the field. Without knowledge, action becomes reactive or misaligned. With knowledge, it becomes situated and informed.
Taken together, these conditions—space, mission, resources, and knowledge—do not determine what people will do. They do not prescribe action in advance. What they do is create a field in which individuals and groups can construct power in relation to the situations they encounter.
This is the shift. The organization is no longer primarily a structure that distributes authority. It becomes a system that enables the emergence of appropriate action. And with that, the role of leadership begins to change as well.
Leadership as the design of fields
If the central task shifts from allocating power to designing the conditions under which power can be constructed, then leadership must be reconsidered accordingly.
In its traditional form, leadership is closely tied to authority. It is the point at which decision rights concentrate, from which direction is set, and through which accountability is enforced. Leadership, in this model, is exercised through control—through the capacity to decide, to instruct, and to ensure that action follows predefined pathways.
Within the framing being developed here, this is no longer sufficient. If power is constructed situationally, then leadership cannot rely primarily on the distribution of authority. It must operate at a different level. It becomes the practice of designing and maintaining the field within which power can emerge appropriately.
This introduces a shift in emphasis.
The first responsibility of leadership becomes discernment. Not everyone, at every moment, is equally positioned to construct power. Leadership must be able to recognize where there is capacity, where there is desire, and where there is a willingness to commit. This is not simply a matter of identifying those who already hold formal authority or demonstrate confidence. It is a more subtle judgment about where power can be meaningfully developed and taken up.
This discernment is active. It requires attention to how individuals and groups engage with situations, how they interpret signals, and how they respond under conditions of uncertainty.
From this point, leadership turns to the shaping of conditions. It must create and protect space, ensuring that the organization does not collapse into over-definition, where every action requires permission and every deviation is treated as error. At the same time, this space must be held with enough coherence that it does not fragment into incoherence or drift.
It must articulate and sustain a shared mission, providing a directional field that allows distributed actors to align their actions without requiring constant central instruction. The mission must be clear enough to orient judgment, but open enough to allow for variation in response.
It must ensure the availability of resources, recognizing that the capacity to act is materially constrained. Without access to support—whether financial, relational, or institutional—the ability to construct power remains limited.
It must also cultivate knowledge, not as a static repository but as an evolving capability. Leadership must ensure that understanding of the system deepens across the organization, enabling more refined forms of situational engagement.
This reframing does not diminish leadership. It intensifies it. Leadership is no longer episodic—exercised primarily at moments of decision. It becomes continuous—embedded in the ongoing design and maintenance of conditions. It requires a form of attention that is architectural rather than purely operational.
There is also a subtle loss embedded in this shift.
Leadership, in this model, cannot fully guarantee outcomes. It cannot ensure that power will be constructed simply because the conditions are present. It can only make that construction possible. The final step—engagement, interpretation, action—remains with individuals and groups.
This may be uncomfortable. It moves leadership away from the illusion of control and toward the reality of enabling without fully determining.
And yet, in complex systems, this may be the only viable position.
Leadership becomes less about being the source of power, and more about ensuring that power can come into being where it is needed, when it is needed, in forms that are appropriate to the situation. It is, in essence, the work of holding a field in which others can act.
A structural boundary: power cannot be substituted
There is a boundary within this thesis that is easy to overlook, but it is decisive. Even if an organization succeeds in creating space, articulating a shared mission, providing resources, and cultivating knowledge, it still does not produce power directly. It creates the conditions under which power might be constructed. But the construction itself cannot be completed by the system.
This is the limit. Power, in the sense being described here, cannot be substituted through structure. It cannot be installed through design. It cannot be guaranteed by role, nor conferred by designation. It must be enacted in relation to real situations by individuals and groups who are willing to engage, interpret, commit, and act.
This introduces a tension that organizations often attempt to resolve prematurely. When individuals do not step into power, or when situations exceed the capacity of those formally responsible, there is a tendency to compensate structurally. More authority is assigned. Roles are redefined. Responsibility is escalated or redistributed. The assumption is that if the structure is corrected, the capacity to act will follow.
But if the argument here holds, this assumption is incomplete. One can assign authority without generating comprehension. One can define responsibility without producing commitment. One can designate leadership without cultivating the courage required to act under uncertainty. In such cases, what is created is not power in its substantive sense, but its representation.
This is where brittleness begins. Forms of power that are primarily structural tend to hold under stable conditions. They provide clarity and continuity. But when conditions shift—when ambiguity increases, when signals are partial, when action must be taken without full instruction—the limits of substituted power become visible. Decisions stall, responsibility diffuses, or action becomes misaligned with reality.
This is not a failure of individuals alone. It is a consequence of a deeper confusion: the assumption that power can be produced through design, rather than only enabled by it. The distinction is subtle but critical.
Structure can support power. It can create the environment in which it is more likely to emerge. It can stabilize its expression once constructed. But it cannot replace the act of constructing it in relation to the world.
There is also an implication here for how we understand failure. If power cannot be substituted, then the absence of appropriate action cannot always be resolved through structural adjustment. It may instead point to a gap in the underlying capacities—comprehension, expression, commitment, courage—or to the absence of conditions that allow those capacities to be exercised.
This suggests that the response to breakdown cannot be purely organizational in the narrow sense. It must also be developmental and situational.
There is a further provocation embedded in this boundary.
If organizations cannot substitute for the construction of power, then they must tolerate a degree of incompleteness. They must accept that not all situations will be met with appropriate action, even under well-designed conditions. They must operate with the recognition that enabling is not the same as guaranteeing.
This is not a weakness of the model. It is a reflection of the reality it is attempting to engage.
In complex systems, power is not something that can be fully secured in advance. It is something that must be continually brought into being. And no structure, however well designed, can do that work on behalf of those who must act.
Contrasting two theories of power
The argument becomes clearer when placed alongside the model it departs from. What is at stake here is not simply a refinement of existing organizational logic, but a shift between two different theories of power—each grounded in a different understanding of the world.
In the traditional model, power is treated as something that can be predefined, stabilized, and distributed. Roles are designed in advance, responsibilities are clearly bounded, and authority is attached to those boundaries. Accountability is then structured to ensure that individuals act in accordance with their assigned remit. The organization functions by aligning people to predefined positions within a stable architecture.
This model assumes that the terrain of action is sufficiently knowable. It presumes that the most important situations can be anticipated, categorized, and governed through structure. Where this holds, the model is effective. It produces clarity, coordination, and control.
The alternative theory being proposed begins from a different premise: that in complex systems, the terrain cannot be fully known in advance. The situations that matter most are often emergent, ambiguous, and shifting. They exceed the categories and boundaries that structure attempts to impose.
Under these conditions, the idea that power can be fully attached to roles becomes problematic.
In the traditional model, responsibility is largely inherited. One is responsible because one occupies a role. In the alternative model, responsibility remains, but it must also be enacted. One becomes responsible through engagement with the situation, not only through formal designation.
In the traditional model, authority legitimates action. One acts because one has been given permission. In the alternative model, authority may still exist, but it is not sufficient. What matters is whether one can actually engage the situation appropriately. Capacity begins to matter as much as, or more than, permission.
In the traditional model, accountability is tied to role compliance. One is assessed on whether predefined duties were fulfilled. In the alternative model, accountability extends further. It includes responsiveness to reality—whether one has engaged with the situation in a way that is coherent with both the conditions and the mission.
In the traditional model, coherence is achieved through control. Structure, hierarchy, and process ensure that action remains aligned. In the alternative model, coherence must be generated differently. It arises through shared mission, through the alignment of judgment across distributed actors, and through the conditions that allow that alignment to occur.
In the traditional model, knowledge is often centralized. Understanding of the whole is concentrated, while execution is distributed. In the alternative model, knowledge must be more widely developed. If power is to be constructed where situations arise, then comprehension must also exist at those points.
At its broadest, the contrast is this.
The traditional theory treats the organization as a structure of control within which power is allocated and exercised. It asks: who is in charge, and how is authority distributed?
The alternative theory treats the organization as a field within which power is constructed. It asks: how is the capacity to act appropriately brought into being in relation to unfolding situations?
This is not a binary choice. Most organizations will contain elements of both. The question is one of emphasis, and of fit to context.
In stable environments, the traditional model retains significant value. But as complexity increases, its assumptions become more strained. The alternative model does not reject structure, responsibility, or accountability. It repositions them. It suggests that they are not sufficient as primary carriers of power, and that something more fluid, more situational, and more developmental must be designed for alongside them.
The shift, then, is not from structure to no structure. It is from power as predefined allocation to power as emergent construction. And it is this shift that begins to reframe how organizations must be designed.
Implications: organizations as fields of emergent power
If the distinction between allocated and constructed power is taken seriously, then it begins to alter how we understand the organization itself.
In the traditional model, the organization is primarily conceived as a structure—a system of roles, hierarchies, and processes through which authority is distributed and action is controlled. Power is stabilized through this structure. It is located, mapped, and made legible through position.
Within the framing being developed here, that conception becomes incomplete.
The organization begins to appear less as a fixed structure of control and more as a field within which power is continuously constructed and reconfigured. The structure does not disappear, but its role shifts. It becomes a support for coordination, rather than the primary carrier of agency. What matters is not only how the structure is arranged, but how the conditions within it enable or constrain the emergence of situationally appropriate action.
This introduces a different set of design questions.
The first concerns space. Not whether space exists in principle, but whether it is actively created and maintained in practice. Are individuals and groups able to interpret and respond to situations without being over-constrained by predefined permissions? Or does the system default to requiring authorization for every deviation from plan, thereby slowing or suppressing adaptive response?
The second concerns mission. Is there a sufficiently clear and shared sense of direction that allows distributed actors to align their actions without constant central coordination? Or does the absence of a strong mission lead to fragmentation when space is introduced?
The third concerns resources. Are the means to act—time, access, relationships, capital—available where they are needed? Or does the organization create the expectation of responsiveness without equipping people to act meaningfully?
The fourth concerns knowledge. Does understanding of the system flow across the organization, enabling people to develop situational judgment? Or is knowledge concentrated, leaving those closest to emerging situations without the comprehension required to engage them effectively?
These questions begin to reveal that organizational effectiveness, in complex environments, depends less on the precision of authority allocation and more on the quality of the conditions that enable power to be constructed.
There is also an implication here regarding variability.
If power is constructed rather than assigned, then it will not be evenly distributed. Individuals and groups will develop and enact capacity at different rates and in different ways. Power will appear in different parts of the system at different times, depending on the nature of the situation.
This challenges a common organizational instinct toward uniformity. The aim is not to ensure that everyone holds equal power in a static sense, but to ensure that the field allows for the emergence of appropriate power where it is needed. This may require tolerating asymmetry, while maintaining alignment to the mission.
At the same time, this framing introduces a new form of organizational attentiveness.
If the organization is a field of emergent power, then it must remain sensitive to where power is actually being constructed, not just where it is formally assigned. It must be able to notice when capacity is developing in unexpected places, and when formal structures are either supporting or constraining that development.
This is a different kind of governance. It is less about enforcing a predefined order and more about maintaining the conditions under which order can continuously re-form in relation to changing circumstances.
There is a subtle but important shift here. The organization is no longer primarily a mechanism for distributing power. It becomes an environment for the continuous production of situationally appropriate agency. And this suggests that the deepest work of organizational design is not to perfect the structure, but to sustain the conditions that allow power to emerge, move, and take form in relation to the world as it unfolds.
Power as plural: three dimensions of organizational life
The argument being developed here should not be read as though constructed, situational power were the only relevant form of power in organizations. It is better understood as one dimension of a broader ecology of power.
Organizations and other living systems appear to require multiple forms of power if they are to unfurl coherently. One of these is allocational power: the structuring of responsibility, authority, and accountability through roles and formal arrangements. This remains essential for coordination, continuity, and the stabilization of obligation.
A second is expressive power: the capacity for life to express itself. This includes the ability of individuals and groups to articulate meaning, desire, perception, imagination, and dissent. Without expressive power, organizations lose sensitivity to what is emerging within them and around them. They may remain orderly, but become mute and internally diminished.
The third is the form of power developed in this essay: situationally constructed power. This is the capacity to act appropriately in relation to unfolding conditions that cannot be fully known in advance. It depends less on predefinition and more on the creation of conditions—space, mission, resources, and knowledge—within which power can be dynamically constructed.
These three dimensions do different work. Allocational power stabilizes. Expressive power vitalizes. Constructed situational power adapts. None is sufficient on its own. Together, they begin to form a more complete architecture through which an organization, or any organism, can coordinate, express, and respond as it becomes.
Closing articulation: toward a plural design of power
What is being proposed here is not a rejection of structure, nor an argument for replacing one model of power with another. It is a repositioning of how power is understood and designed. In conditions of complexity, it becomes increasingly difficult to organize power solely through the allocation of roles. The situations that matter cannot be fully known in advance, and therefore the capacity to act appropriately cannot be fully pre-assigned. This requires a shift in how we think about power—not as something that can be entirely designed into a structure, but as something that must, in part, be constructed in relation to unfolding conditions.
At the same time, this does not invalidate other forms of power. Organizations, like all living systems, appear to require a plural architecture of power if they are to function and evolve coherently. Allocational power remains necessary. It provides clarity, continuity, and the stabilization of responsibility. Without it, coordination becomes difficult and obligations dissipate. Expressive power is equally necessary. It allows life within the organization to manifest, to articulate meaning, tension, imagination, and dissent. Without it, the organization may remain orderly, but it becomes muted, losing sensitivity to itself and to the environment it inhabits.
Alongside these sits the form of power developed throughout this essay: constructed, situational power. This is the capacity to engage reality as it unfolds, to interpret emerging conditions, to act under uncertainty, and to respond before situations are fully formed. It cannot be allocated in advance, nor guaranteed through structure. It must be enabled through conditions and enacted through engagement.
These forms of power are not interchangeable. Each performs a distinct function within the life of the organization. Allocational power stabilizes the system, providing structure and continuity. Expressive power vitalizes it, allowing it to sense, communicate, and evolve. Constructed power enables adaptation, allowing the organization to respond appropriately to conditions that exceed its predefined structures.
The challenge, then, is not to choose between these forms, but to understand how they must coexist and be designed in relation to one another. An over-reliance on allocational power can produce rigidity, where the organization is well-ordered but unable to respond to change. An excess of expressive power without sufficient structure can produce incoherence, where energy is present but cannot be directed effectively. A failure to design for constructed, situational power leaves the organization unable to engage with the complexity it faces, even if it remains internally coherent.
What follows from this is a more demanding conception of organizational design. It is no longer sufficient to build structures of authority, nor is it enough to simply create spaces for expression. The task is to design and maintain the conditions—space, mission, resources, and knowledge—within which power can be constructed dynamically, while also sustaining the structures and expressive capacities that allow the organization to endure and to sense itself.
This leads to a different way of understanding the organization. It is not simply a machine for distributing control, nor a loose network of unbounded expression. It is a living arrangement in which multiple forms of power interact, stabilizing, expressing, and adapting in relation to one another.
The provocation that follows is straightforward. It may be that the challenge we face is not that our organizations are insufficiently empowered within the models we already understand, but that those models themselves are incomplete. If that is the case, then the task ahead is not merely managerial, but architectural. It is to design institutions in which power is not only allocated and expressed, but also continuously constructed—appropriately, responsively, and in time with the world as it unfolds.

Indy—this lands deeply.
What I hear here is not simply a critique of organizational design, rather a reorientation of ontology:
Power is not allocated through structure.
It arises in the field between us.
In my own work through Embodying Emergence, I’ve found that before power can be distributed wisely, people must develop the capacity to perceive and steward the relational field itself—the atmosphere, coherence, trust, timing, and especially the subtle currents through which coordinated action becomes possible after being felt through an inclusive neuroceptive network.
What feels significant is that this insight appears to be co-emerging across multiple domains at once: in emerging OD 4.0 discourse, in the advancement of aligned social arts, and in practices such as Nora Bateson’s Warm Data. Sebastian Jung, Otto Scharmer, Eva Pomeroy and others who are helping articulate this as social field awareness—or what some are calling 4th person knowing.
It feels less like a single school of thought
and more like a new cartography co-emerging across contexts simultaneously.
Without that developmental shift,
new structures simply inherit old vocabulary andpatterns.
As I revisit the 36 visual presencing images from my Yoga Radicals commissioned dialogues with long-term contemplative practitioners, I am struck by how often this same truth appears in another language:
Power is not force.
It is the capacity to remain present
long enough for right action to emerge.
Sometimes I call it conscious composting.
Grateful for this articulation.
It helps many of us sense into the larger constellation emerging.
—Allie
Your concept of “space” and “power” resonate with my work around developing “system stewards”…spaces within the space where intelligence about the system’s dynamics is emerged in an on-going way, to support designing and maintaining the field within which power can emerge appropriately.
You are also addressing the traditional assumptions about “permanence” as a value, versus evolutionary relational action as the basis for organizing.