What Makes Us Strong?
Insecurity & Authoritarianism
In my practice, I see many Americans across the political spectrum struggling with deep feelings of insecurity and uncertainty about our future, expressing opinions that undermine their own sense of security and trust. This is a striking paradox, especially when considering that the United States possesses one of the most powerful militaries in the world, a force unmatched in its global reach. It has been ranked as the most powerful for the past 20 years. Yet, despite this overwhelming military might, a pervasive sense of vulnerability persists. The allure of MAGA and Christian Nationalism has now led us to a colder far-right American authoritarianism with its promise of unwavering strength and security, and even more military power, and masks our deeper vulnerabilities.
As sociologist and psychoanalyst Eric Fromm once observed in Escape from Freedom, people sometimes willingly submit to an authority figure and give up their freedom in exchange for the security and belonging offered by authoritarian systems. This is how fear and insecurity drives us towards authoritarianism.
From my years observing clients on the political left and right, I've seen how we all share a deep desire to protect our families and communities. This natural instinct for security can lead us to seek simple, powerful solutions to complex problems. We want to feel strong and in control, especially when the world feels unstable. We want to feel safe. Take our relationship with firearms - we now have more guns than people in America, reflecting our intense desire for protection. Even as gun deaths have declined, “tens of thousands of lives continue to be lost or permanently changed by guns.” And we still don’t feel safe enough. What’s going on here?
As a mental health professional, I've seen how this focus on external security often masks deeper needs for connection and understanding. While the impulse to protect ourselves is reasonable, relying solely on external physical measures of security —whether that's a firearm or any other show of force— often leaves us feeling more anxious, not less. We then work to make more money to buy more guns to feel safer, and the cycle continues. Like with money, you’ll never have enough security. You'll always want more.
The false sense of security is a potent tool for authoritarianism. It exploits the primal human need for safety, often magnifying perceived threats, like the complex immigration issue, into existential crises. While some fears are reasonable and understandable, exploiting them as a tactic diverts attention from the true sources of insecurity: systemic inequalities, economic instability, and neglected psychological needs.
By focusing solely on “hard power”—military might, border walls, and immigration crackdowns—we create a false sense of security, much like one who builds a psychological fortress around themselves to avoid confronting their internal turmoil. Semi-permeable boundaries like adjustable guardrails are healthy and life-affirming, but focus on impenetrable defenses or walls are not. Our avoidance, however, only exacerbates underlying anxieties and prevents genuine healing. We remain in a perpetual state of anxiety. As Fromm wrote, “Man can only stand so much awareness of his own impotence; he must try to do something about it. He can try to regain his former security by giving up his individuality; he can try to dominate others; or he can try to achieve akind of security which is not based on the denial of his individuality.”
This desire to escape personal responsibility and the fear of freedom is, according to Fromm, a key characteristic of the authoritarian personality. Authoritarians don't want true freedom. He noted that “The authoritarian character worships the past. What has been, will eternally be. To wish or to work for something that has not yet been before is crime or madness. The miracle of creation—and creation is always a miracle—is outside of his range of emotional experience.” Or, as I have learned, Creativity is a threat to a closed system.
While these external projections of strength may temporarily soothe our collective anxieties, their real impact is far more destructive to our personal growth and development. We fear change as a threat rather than welcome it as a friend. We want to nostalgically go back to traditions, to “the good old days.” But were they really all that good?
The internal cost of this external projection is devastating. An overemphasis on deportations and military strength fosters a culture that actively undermines the very qualities that make communities truly strong: empathy, unity, and critical thinking. Qualities that authoritarians may view as weak or threatening. The erosion of empathy, a cornerstone of human connection, leads to social division, creating an “us vs. them” mentality that tears families and communities apart.
Social media silos of extremists, and the suppression of dissent through disinformation, often disguised as patriotism, stifle the vital exchange of ideas necessary for a healthy democracy. Moral decay, the tolerance of increasing violence, and devaluing the diversity of human life, further weaken the social fabric, leaving us vulnerable to both internal and external threats. Isn’t that the irony of the extreme far-right’s “Pro-Life” anti-LGBTQ+ movements? What or who are we protecting? Not the marginalized. Not “your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
The prioritization of controlling immigration and military spending over social programs reflects a fundamental disagreement about what makes us strong. None of our immediate neighbors have attacked us. Our newer policies have threatened them. While robust defense spending is important for national security, others argue that a society where citizens lack access to basic needs like healthcare is inherently vulnerable. Education, healthcare, infrastructure, and social welfare programs are not wasteful expenses; they are vital investments in the well-being of ordinary people in a free America.
A country where great swaths of people lack access to basic healthcare is a weaker country. This neglect creates a breeding ground for social and economic inequalities, fueling resentment and instability. As Naomi Klein argues in “The Shock Doctrine,” this weakness can be exploited by powerful corporate interests who capitalize on moments of crisis. This has led to online rhetoric that glorifies violence, including memes that ironically and enthusiastically cheer us to “Free Luigi,” the only suspect in the murder of a dehumanized healthcare insurance company CEO who represents fatally unchecked corporate greed in the American healthcare system. Just as an individual who neglects their physical and mental health eventually succumbs to illness, a nation that neglects its social and psychological well-being inevitably weakens.
Beyond these economic impacts, the glorification of military power perpetuates cycles of violence. This cycle, both domestically and internationally, leaves a trail of chronic stress, trauma, and other mental health problems in its wake. Communities become battlegrounds, not only physically, but also psychologically. The constant exposure to violence desensitizes us, making it harder to empathize with human suffering. This normalization of violence seeps into our homes, schools, and streets, creating a culture of fear and aggression that undermines the very security we seek. This is the tension in America today.
From a psychotherapeutic perspective, the authoritarian impulse is a manifestation of deep-seated insecurities and unaddressed personal history. It’s a reactive defense strategy against unbearable vulnerability, a desperate attempt to control a hostile world that feels chaotic and unpredictable.
In my clinical experience, individuals deeply entrenched in extreme ideological positions often resist therapeutic environments that encourage self-examination. This mirrors the broader societal pattern where psychological rigidity and the need for certainty drive both hyper-masculine authoritarian tendencies and resistance to the vulnerability required for genuine growth and connection.
Yes, we often live in an uncomfortable and uncertain world. But real strength isn’t in domination. Contrary to authoritarianism, strength lies in flexible resilience, empathy, and the ability to connect with others not so unlike ourselves. By embracing these qualities, we build humane communities that are not only secure but also just, compassionate, and strong in a more complete and sustainable way.
(Note: This exploration of insecurity and authoritarianism sets the stage for a deeper look at specific manifestations, such as the evolving landscape of American masculinity, which I'll explore in my next piece. Stay tuned.)
Letters from a Psychotherapist is a reader-supported, ad-free publication. Your paid subscription helps me create new posts & support access for those who can't afford it. Thank you.