What does power look like?

jasonsix3
Dec 8, 2025
8 min read

Updated: Dec 16, 2025

Power, the ability to control and direct resources and people, often seems intangible and elusive. Like a force of nature, it is there, it acts upon us, but it is only by inference or hindsight that we understand its true character. Tolkien, Wagner, and Plato imagined power as a ring that grants its wearer invisibility, and Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings explores its source; his ring is a symbol that represents the mysterious and malevolent origin of that power. In L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of Oz, the seemingly powerful wizard, whose face has never been seen, is revealed as an ordinary man behind a curtain when confronted. Examining symbols of power and their purpose can help us understand our own society, and perhaps even allow us to peek behind the curtain.

“Oz himself is the Great Wizard,” answered the Witch, sinking her voice to a whisper. “He is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds." The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

We do not have to look far to find them, because they are all around us, as are signs pointing to the ‘invisible hands’ that shape our world. They are stamps and insignias of status; intimidating and exclusive. In politics, we see material evidence of power in government buildings, law courts, and coats of arms; economic power looks something like office towers, factories, big houses, and expensive cars; cultural power is apparent in entertainment through dominant themes portrayed on television or film and in academia through the promotion of certain ideas or ideals. In government, representatives are custodians of institutions who possess power temporarily, but what supports or underlies these institutions? In modern times, we might answer that it is the - or a - people, though historically, symbols, myths, and metaphors that depict power tell us about something transcendent; something held and exercised by people, but not directly of, or from, people.

The Scottish Stone of Destiny, the diadem and mantles of Aztec rulers, King Arthur’s Excalibur, and the sceptres and headdresses of the Egyptian Pharaohs are examples of how we (or the powerful) explain through myth how those with power came to have it, and why. We would like to believe, and are encouraged to believe, that it is only the worthy and capable who have power (and, in some traditions, because they are granted the right to rule by God). The hierarchy of human society is built around this belief, and it is perhaps the foundation of all order. Symbols of power are a way of explaining and justifying the way a society is ordered.

The Stone of Scone is a sandstone block which was used to crown Scottish kings. Its origin and significance are shrouded in myth and legend, some Biblical, though it is certain that it was appropriated by King Edward I (‘Hammer of the Scots) in 1296 after victory over the Scots in battle and incorporated, somewhat crudely, into what over time became a coronation chair, last used for King Charles’ coronation in 2023.

Symbols of power are, by their nature, old and often mysterious. They are a way of pointing to events or circumstances that brought about present arrangements. They represent legitimacy and continuity; a connection with the past. If that connection is severed by the course of history, they become artefacts; museum pieces and costumes. A stone becomes just a stone; a sword just a sword. Their use can become performative and inauthentic: German writer Johann Wolfgang Goethe described the coronation of Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor, in 1764, in terms that indicate the king’s regalia had by that point lost some of its power to impress:

The young king, on the contrary, in his monstrous articles of dress, with the crown-jewels of Charlemagne, dragged himself along as if he had been in a disguise; so that he himself, looking at his father from time to time, could not refrain from laughing. The crown, which it had been necessary to line a great deal, stood out from his head like an overhanging roof. The dalmatica, the stole, well as they had been fitted and taken in by sewing, presented by no means an advantageous appearance. The sceptre and imperial orb excited some admiration; but one would, for the sake of a more princely effect, rather have seen a strong form, suited to the dress, invested and adorned with it. Goethe, Autobiography: Truth and Fiction Relating to My Life

The symbols of power used by the Parliament of New South Wales are a ceremonial mace and a black wooden rod that represent authority of the Legislative Assembly and Legislative Council, respectively. Their use is accompanied by various traditions: the mace is always present when the speaker is in his or her chair, the orb and cross point towards the government side of the Assembly’s chamber, and there is a dedicated person assigned to carry each item into the chambers (the mace is carried on the right shoulder of the Sergeant-at-Arms, for example).

The mace is a historical and ceremonial part of the Westminster Parliaments. It is carried into the Legislative Assembly by the Serjeant-at-Arms as a symbol of the authority of the Speaker…The Mace was gifted in 1974 by the Jewish Board of Deputies to the Legislative Assembly. Made of silver and gold it is 1.5m long and weighs 7 kgs.

As an Australian, the symbols and the ceremonies of the state’s Parliament seem quite foreign; even strange. Perhaps this is a failing of the education system, or because the country’s connection to Britain, from whom we inherited our political system and traditions, has diminished rapidly over a short period of time. Or perhaps it is supposed to be that way: power is supposed to be out of the reach of the common citizen and to be wielded only by those initiated into its rituals and secrets. Or possibly by someone who can pull a sword out of a stone:

The legendary of King Arthur’s feat of pulling the sword Excalibur from a stone in which it had been stuck confirmed him as the rightful king of England: “whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England [1].”

The mace and rod ultimately derive their authority from the British Crown, or Sovereign, and seem to represent its ability to use force (the origin of the mace in England was its use as a weapon) rather than a transcendent or mythic idea. Would it make a difference to the operation of NSW Parliament if there were no such symbols? What would replace them?

Until 1974 the New South Wales Legislative Assembly was one of two legislatures in Australia that did not possess a mace… In New South Wales, the mace is therefore not treated with the same gravitas as in the House of Commons and the absence of a mace did not prevent the Legislative Assembly from sitting for the 120 years it did not have a mace…the House would continue to conduct business as usual should the mace ever be displaced. © State of New South Wales through the Parliament of New South Wales

The tradition of the mace as seen in the Parliament of Western Australia.

The United States provides a clue with its ceremonial mace that, for obvious reasons, does not symbolise the authority of the British crown (including that the original mace was destroyed when the British burned the Capitol, including the White House building, in 1814), but other symbols, some ancient and some unique to the country. Similar maces exist in Canada and Singapore.

The mace is made up of three parts—a bundled shaft of 13 rods (representing the 13 colonies), a silver globe, and an eagle with spread wings. The bundled rods of the mace resemble fasces. Fasces, used in the ancient Roman republic, symbolize strength through unity. The bundled rods are much stronger together than they are separately.

United States House of Representatives

Aztec rulers wore dyed mantles (a garment similar to a cloak), some designed to imply descent from the Toltec people, who ruled a pre-Aztec kingdom and were revered by the Aztecs; such identification legitimised their rule. During the reign of Motecuhzoma I, the ruler engaged in sacrificial rituals wearing feathers, gold, and jade and, importantly, a turquoise diadem (headband), symbol of royal authority.

Byzantine emperors ruled by divine right absolutely, and in this mosaic from 547 in San Vitale, Ravenna (once part of the Byzantine empire in Italy) emperor Justinian is depicted wearing the imperial purple, a crown, and what appears to be a halo. In other mosaics, Justinian is presented as “Christ’s vice-regent on earth [2]”.

The Pharaohs of ancient Egypt were, from the second dynasty (2890-2670 BC) onwards, “considered a god on earth, the intermediary between the gods and the people [3]”. They carried the crook and flail as a symbol of their connection to the gods, from whom they drew their authority (such as Osiris - Lord of the Underworld and mythic first king of Egypt). They also had duties to the gods; for example, they were to build great monuments and encourage ‘Ma’at’, which meant conformity with the universal order of creation, justice, and harmony.

The Lia Fáil, located on the Hill of Tara in Ireland, was a coronation stone for the King of Ireland. According to Irish myth, it was brought to the country by the Tuatha Dé Danann, a supernatural people, as one of the four legendary treasures of Ireland. Early Irish literature claimed that the stone would make a distinct sound to indicate the presence of a true or false king.

The Imperial Crown of Austria includes a mitre which symbolises the Emperor’s divine right to rule, which was associated with the Christian faith. A Christian cross appears on the crown’s arch beneath its blue sapphire.

Symbols of power can and should tell us about ourselves, where our traditions of governance come from, and how we are connected to them. When the source of power they point to is extinguished, so is their significance; it is important to understand when and how they retain their relevance, though the purpose of examining symbols of power is not necessarily to find the ‘man behind the curtain’ and discredit them. Legitimate power exists, and when its essence is depicted symbolically it can rightly inspire admiration, respect, and even veneration. Perhaps it is the human need for hierarchy that brings such feelings out in us, or perhaps we simply have an intuition for who or what is worthy of power; we hope for a King Arthur figure who can do what we ordinary folk cannot: one who displays virtues in equal measure to which he inspires them.

[1] Le Morte d’Arthur, The Works of Sir Thomas Malory

[2] Farber, A., San Vitale and the Justinian and Theodora Mosaics, Smarthistory, https://smarthistory.org/san-vitale/

[3] Mark, J., World History Encyclopedia, Pharaoh, h ttps://www.worldhistory.org/pharaoh/