In our everyday lives, we often encounter a peculiar phenomenon — people sharing information. At face value, it’s an ordinary interaction. But delve a little deeper, and you’ll realize that the way information is conveyed reveals something profound: the very character of the person delivering it, and more importantly, the nature of power they assume over you.
There are two ways people usually inform the unaware.
In the first, someone gently says, “I have some information that might be useful to you.”
In the second, the tone changes dramatically: “You don’t even know this much? Let me explain… (followed by an elaborate monologue). Look, we’re telling you this for your good. Accept it, or suffer the consequences.”
This isn’t just a matter of language or style. It’s a difference of mindset — of ethics, of fundamental worldview.
The first approach is rooted in humility, mutual respect, and cooperative spirit.
The second reeks of ego, control, and latent authoritarianism.
And herein lies a deeper truth: both claim to be acts of help.
But one is born of democratic values — the other of despotic impulses.
The Power of Tone
Democracy, in its truest sense, is not just about elections or governance. It is a lived experience. It reflects in how we speak, how we listen, and how we share knowledge. It respects the agency of the other. It allows space for disagreement. It trusts that people are capable of forming their own conclusions if treated with dignity.
Dictatorship, on the other hand, may not always arrive on tanks or under martial law. Sometimes, it arrives at your doorstep wearing the mask of concern. It tells you what to think — not because you asked, but because it presumes you don’t know enough. And it expects submission, not participation.
The Tyrants Around Us
Look around carefully — not at global superpowers or oppressive regimes, but in your own circles. You might notice that you’re surrounded by subtle dictators. They aren’t politicians or military generals. They are friends, relatives, colleagues, even influencers and self-proclaimed thought leaders. They position themselves as your saviours — but slowly, often unconsciously, begin eroding your sense of self.
Make no mistake — anyone who cannot accommodate your disagreement is not a well-wisher.
Their primary goal is to assert dominance over your thought process.
Behind their apparent concern lies a need to control, not to collaborate.
The Vaccine of Awareness
This is where the modern citizen must awaken.
The ability to recognize the tone of tyranny — even when it comes disguised as care — is our most vital democratic skill.
It is our internal vaccine against subtle authoritarianism.
And this recognition isn’t just about resisting. It’s about reclaiming dignity.
There is, of course, hope.
If we engage with clarity, kindness, and firm principles — even the most rigid egos can begin to soften. But tread carefully.
Those who operate from ego are deeply attached to it.
Challenge their worldview too directly, and you invite resistance, or worse, retaliation.
Change, especially in such cases, must be invited — not enforced.
As the Indian epic Ramayana reminds us through the idea of the Lakshman Rekha — there are limits to every righteous act, and those boundaries must not be overstepped, no matter how noble the intent.
Democracy Begins in Dialogue
We live in times where the line between guidance and manipulation is often blurred.
Where influence masquerades as insight.
Where algorithms amplify voices not based on reason, but on outrage.
In such a world, maintaining our inner compass is the highest form of resistance.
A democratic society must be built not just in parliaments and courts, but in everyday conversations — in how we teach, learn, advise, and even argue.
It’s easy to mistake dominance for leadership, or noise for wisdom.
But true leadership listens. True wisdom invites discussion, not obedience.
So the next time someone offers you advice or instruction — pause.
Is it an offering, or an imposition?
Does it empower you, or subtly humiliate you?
Because ultimately, democracy begins with that pause — that moment of internal clarity where you decide not just whatto accept, but how to accept it.
Let us be citizens of dignity.
Not fragile egos who must always be right, nor passive recipients of imposed truths.
Let us be democrats in tone, spirit, and practice.
Because democracy is not a destination. It’s a daily discipline.
And that begins not with grand revolutions — but with everyday respect.
By Shashi Singh
