A two-dollar toy can tie up a trillion-dollar tech giant in knots.
A fugitive with a murder charge can still find villagers secretly leaving him water and food in the fields.
And then there’s the “bamboo cicada” – a cheap plastic toy that screeches in a child’s hand, which somehow turned a solemn press conference into a nationwide meme fest.
These events seem unrelated.
But if you dig two spades deeper, you’ll find they share one root cause:
Authority is dead. No one’s word carries weight anymore.
Note: I don’t mean “it’s dying” or “it’s about to die.”
I mean: it is already dead.
Some may object:
“How can that be? Look at the takedown notices, account bans, and swift enforcement – they’re still working just fine.”
You’re confusing two things.
I’m not saying power is gone. On the contrary – the ability to enforce, to coerce, is still very much alive.
What’s dead is the crucial support behind power: authority.
Power remains. But authority has gone bankrupt.
And the collapse of authority is not merely “the old thing kicking the bucket.”
It signals that an era we have never experienced has already begun.
1. Power and Authority Are Not the Same Thing
Many people habitually confuse “power” with “authority.”
Power is the ability to shut you up.
This includes – but is not limited to – deleting your videos, banning your accounts, removing content across platforms, throttling your reach – and, of course, the physical means to deal with you offline.
Authority, on the other hand, is what makes you willing to believe what someone says even before they open their mouth.
It is, in essence, a low‑cost form of trust.
If you stand on stage and shout “We are far ahead!” or “Our great nation is number one!”, and the audience immediately feels like they’ve already won – then the authorities don’t need to spend a dime on maintaining order. Instead, countless enthusiastic citizens will voluntarily help you keep an eye on those who haven’t yet “won.”
That is authority.
Real authority doesn’t need to run around proving how awesome it is every day.
But power is different.
Power is high‑cost control.
You stand on stage and shout “We are far ahead!” – but the audience, instead of feeling victorious, pulls out two‑dollar bamboo cicadas and starts mocking you loudly.
Now what?
You have to deploy your PR team – forced takedowns, platform complaints, legal letters.
In short, you have to throw enormous legal and PR resources at a two‑dollar toy.
That’s why –
Every forced takedown by a PR department is essentially using power to buy a high‑priced ticket for an already overdrawn authority.
Why “high‑priced”?
Because in the past, you could just shout anything on stage and everyone believed it.
But today, you have to spend huge sums, endure backlash, just to make people reluctantly shut up – and even then, it often fails.
What does that tell us?
It tells us that the trust they once accumulated has gone completely bankrupt.
The more frequently power flexes its muscles, the more it tells everyone:
“What I say is no longer trusted.”
So they have no choice but to use coercion to try to shut people up.
It may not be dignified; it may make things ugly –
but they have no other option.
That is the fundamental difference between power and authority.
A person can hold immense power yet command little authority.
Another person can have no coercive means at all, yet enjoy great authority.
Because:
Power relies on force and fear.
Authority relies on willingness and trust.
2. How Is Authority Built? Slowly, Like Saving Coins
So how is such formidable authority established?
It may come from professional competence, moral reputation, information monopoly, or a shared grand narrative.
But whichever it is, they all share one trait:
It takes time. A lot of time.
Authority is not something that falls from the sky after one press conference, one ad campaign, or one title.
It’s like saving money – you add one coin at a time, and then you cash in, again and again.
Today I say something, and you find it accurate.
Tomorrow I make a promise, and you see I keep it.
The day after, a crisis hits, and you see I can hold the line.
Coin by coin, you eventually build a treasury of trust in the public’s heart.
History offers many examples.
Wang Anshi of the Northern Song Dynasty spent 20 years accumulating academic and political prestige in local posts and at court before he was finally put in charge of the reforms.
Xie An of the Eastern Jin Dynasty lived in reclusion for decades, building his fame among the literati, before he got the chance to command at the Battle of Fei River.
The tricky part about authority is this:
It often takes decades of hard work to build –
but it can be squandered in just a few minor missteps.
As the old saying goes:
“Earning money is like picking up grains with a needle; spending it is like washing away sand with water.”
Different things, but the same logic.
3. How Does Authority Die? Not by a Single Blow
Normally, authority is not knocked out by one punch.
Sure, on this alkaline soil, we once invented some very efficient methods for “overthrowing reactionary academic authorities” – including, but not limited to, copper‑studded belts, “jet‑plane” postures, public parades – quick and dirty physical solutions.
But those methods destroyed bodies, not authority.
Real authority doesn’t die that way.
It dies little by little, day after day.
- First time they exaggerate – people think, “Alright, forgive them once.”
- Second time, words don’t match deeds – doubts creep in.
- Third time, another screw‑up – genuine questioning begins.
- Fourth, fifth time – questioning turns into overwhelming mockery.
At that point, the tide has turned.
In the past, when authority spoke, people’s first reaction was: “Let’s go do it.”
Later it became: “Is what they say true?”
Then: “They can say whatever – none of my business.”
Finally: “The more serious they look on stage, the more we want to laugh out loud.”
And the killer part –
They try to cover your mouth to stop you laughing, while at the same time, they keep challenging basic common sense and creating more material for jokes.
At that moment, authority is completely bankrupt.
4. Why Is Authority So Afraid of Mockery?
The core of authority is not punishment power – it’s credibility.
Credibility can be saved up gradually, but it can also be burned through in large chunks.
When what authority says stops matching reality,
when authority begins to abuse its power recklessly, trying to shut everyone up,
– the more aggressively it acts, the more it exposes its fragility.
Add to that today’s information environment, which is nothing like the past.
The old way of maintaining reverence through information monopoly is becoming increasingly unsustainable.
Ordinary people have gradually discovered something that used to be hard to see:
Even the lofty authorities lie, look clumsy, and even tremble with fear.
Over time, the social psychology shifts.
This shift isn’t necessarily “I’ll risk my life to oppose you.” It’s more like:
“When you blather on stage, to us down here, it’s worth less than a fart.”
So why is authority so afraid of mockery?
Authority isn’t afraid of a frontal challenge.
If you debate openly – I can drown you with a sea of supporters.
If you write a critical article – I can delete it, ban your account, or even use physical means to deal with you.
But mockery is different – it operates on a whole other level.
It deconstructs.
Mockery doesn’t bother arguing about “right or wrong.” Instead, it pulls you down from your pedestal and turns you into a mortal like everyone else.
What authority fears most is not someone seriously saying “You are wrong.”
What it fears is: someone pointing and laughing, saying –
“So after all that, this is what you really are?”
Once you understand this, you’ll get why many people are puzzled by one observation:
Why do officials – and some big‑tech executives – crack jokes and tell great stories in private, but in public they put on stiff suits, stone‑faced expressions, with an atmosphere as somber as a memorial service?
It’s not that they were born that way.
It’s not that they don’t have a sense of humor – it’s that their position doesn’t permit humor.
Because humor is fatal to solemnity.
Once you start joking, the grand, sacred narratives are dragged back into the mundane mess of daily life:
Oh, even gods pick their noses.
Even emperors suffer from hemorrhoids.
And just like that, the symbol of “absolute correctness” and “divine radiance” suddenly becomes a vulgar creature just like you and me – one who blunders, gets diarrhea, and becomes a laughingstock.
That’s the deadliest thing about mockery –
It doesn’t need to overthrow you; it just needs to make people laugh.
One laugh, and the pedestal shrinks a little.
Another laugh, and it shrinks some more.
Laugh enough, and eventually no one can even remember –
why they ever held that thing in awe in the first place.
So you’ll notice:
The decline of a myth or an authority doesn’t have to be accompanied by gunfire or a rousing call to arms.
It might simply be a line of comments, in perfect unison:
“Hahaha.”
5. When the Old God Falls, Will a New God Rise?
Let’s sum up here.
The “bamboo cicada” affair reflects far more than just a lousy company making a fool of itself and causing a PR disaster.
What’s shifting beneath the surface is the cognitive structure of an entire era.
In the past, people were used to believing those who stood on pedestals.
They told us: this is absolutely right, that is absolutely wrong, this is worth your lifelong devotion, and that must never be questioned.
Today, this long‑standing pattern is visibly crumbling.
And this process is irreversible.
One day, the old authority will reach its end.
People will wake up from long‑term conditioning and, in the most down‑to‑earth, blunt, and safest ways, reclaim the right of interpretation that belongs to ordinary people.
That is the closing theme of a great era.
Now, let’s ask a small question:
Is the shattering of authority a good thing?
Of course it is. Absolutely, certainly, definitely a good thing.
What could be more satisfying than a bullshitting authority collapsing?
But – good as it is, let’s add a caveat:
It being good doesn’t mean it has only benefits.
After the old authority disappears, ordinary people gain many things – no more blind obedience, the start of independent judgment, questioning grand narratives, speaking up in their own ways.
All these are signs of progress.
But with them comes a new problem:
When the old authority is gone, who will tell us what is worth believing?
This is a dangerous question.
Because when people break free from a false authority, they don’t automatically become rational.
They merely get a chance – a chance to choose what to believe for themselves.
If you trace the psychological evolution of the masses, you see a clear path:
First, blindly trust authority.
Then discover that authority lies – so trust collapses.
Then trust nothing – not officials, not experts, not the media.
And then?
Then people start trusting themselves.
Trusting themselves in what?
Trusting their own information cocoons.
Trusting what they like to see, what they like to hear, what panders to their emotions every day.
This is not moving from ignorance to reason.
It’s simply: moving from believing one aloof, inhuman old authority to believing another new authority that knows how to flatter better.
Some people, after the old authority falls, will turn to science and independent thinking.
But many more will turn into conspiracy theories, populism, and group extremism.
Because the human species, it seems, cannot live long in a space where “nothing is believed.”
So, the old idol will certainly shatter into pieces one day.
But the pedestal it sat on may not disappear with it.
Quite often, after all the fuss, in the end –
they just put a new god on the same pedestal.
So when the old myth is ground to dust –
have we finally obtained the key to free thinking?
Or have we cheerfully walked into another, more elegant cage?
There is no answer here.
At least not today.
6. Epilogue: The Only Good News
In the past, people believed “the future will surely be better,” so they worked hard.
They believed what authorities said, so they obeyed.
Today, people find that the future might not be better – it might even be worse.
Hence the self‑mocking memes like “manual laborers” and “scattered commanders.”
People find that authorities’ words are untrustworthy.
Hence the deconstruction through toys like the bamboo cicada and instant‑noodle jokes.
Now, we are finally starting to form our own judgments, our own doubts, and to seek our own answers.
Where the end of this road leads?
No one can predict yet.
But in any case – a bullshitting authority collapsing is a good thing to be grateful for.
At least, from this moment on,
our generation no longer has to treat brainwashing as the only answer.
原文
权威已死，只剩下权力还在硬撑
两块钱的玩具，能把万亿市值的科技巨头搞得焦头烂额。
一个背着命案的逃犯，却能在田间地头让村民悄悄给他留水留饭。
还有这几天忽然全网刷屏的“竹知了”——一个小孩手里吱哇乱叫的塑料玩具，硬是把一场正经八百的发布会变成了全网段子大赛。
这些事，八竿子打不着。
但如果你往下深挖两铲子，会发现根子都是同一个：
权威已经崩了。现在，已经没有人说话管用了。
注意，我不是说“正在崩”或者“快要崩了”。
我是说：已经崩了。
看到这儿，可能有人会反对：
“怎么可能崩？你看看人家删帖封号、追捕一条龙，麻溜着呢，哪有崩的样子？”
朋友，你把两件事搞混了。
我不是说权力崩了。 恰恰相反——强权的执行力，今天依然在线。
完蛋的不是权力，是权力背后的那个关键支撑——权威。
权力还在，但权威已经破产了。
而权威的崩塌，从来不是“旧玩意儿嗝屁了”那么简单。
它意味着：一个我们从未经历过的时代，已经轰然开启。
01 权力和权威，从来就不是一回事
很多人习惯把“权力”和“权威”混为一谈。
权力，是让你闭嘴的能力。
包括但不限于：删你的视频、封你的号、全网下架、限制你的流量——当然，还有直接掏出物理手段在线下收拾你的能力。
权威，则是在他开口之前，就已经让你愿意相信他说的话。
它本质上是一种低成本的信任。
你站在台上喊一句“遥遥领先”，喊一句“厉害了我的国”，台下观众立马觉得自己赢麻了——这种时候，官方不仅不需要花一分钱去维稳，反而会有无数热心群众自发帮你盯住那些“还没赢麻”的家伙。
这个，才叫权威。
真正的权威，不需要整天人五人六地满世界证明自己有多牛。
但权力不一样。
权力是一种高成本的管控。
你站在台上喊“俺们已经遥遥领先了”，台下观众不但没赢麻，反而纷纷掏出两块钱的竹知了，哇啦哇啦地嘲笑你。
这时候怎么办？
你只能掏出公关团队：强制下架、平台投诉、律师函警告。
总之，要动用天量的法务和公关成本，去对付一只两块钱的民间玩具。
所以说——
公关部门每一次强制下架，本质上都是在动用权力，给已经透支的权威补一张高价票。
为什么叫“高价票”？
因为搁过去，你在台上随便吼一嗓子，大家都信了。
但今天，你必须砸下巨额成本、背负舆论反弹，才能让大家勉强闭嘴——而且还经常失败。
这说明什么？
说明他们原来攒下的那份信用，已经彻底破产了。
当权力越是频繁地发力硬刚，它实际上就是在告诉所有人：
“我说的话，已经没人信了。”
所以只能动用强制手段，想方设法让你们闭嘴。
这个手段也许不体面，也许会把场面搞得很难看——
但我已经别无选择。
这就是权力和权威最根本的区别。
一个人可以拥有巨大的权力，却没有多少权威。
一个人也可以没有任何强制手段，却拥有很高的权威。
因为：
权力依赖的是强制和恐惧。
权威依赖的是自愿和相信。
02 权威是怎么建起来的？慢得像存钱
那么，这么牛叉的权威，到底是怎么建立起来的？
可能靠专业能力，可能靠道德声望，可能靠信息垄断，也可能靠一套大家共同相信的宏大叙事。
但不管是哪一种，都有一个共同特点：
慢。非常慢。
权威这东西，不是开一次发布会、发一条广告、扣一个头衔，就能从天上掉下来的。
它有点像存钱——你只能一枚铜板一枚铜板地攒，然后再一次一次地兑现。
今天我说一句话，你发现我讲得挺准。
明天我做了一个承诺，你发现我真的做到了。
后天出了什么危机，你发现我真扛得住。
就这么一个钢镚、一个钢镚地攒，最后才能在公众心里搭起一座信任的金库。
类似的例子，历史上比比皆是。
北宋王安石，在真正上台主持变法之前，已经在地方和朝堂上积累了20年的学术和政治声望。
东晋谢安，蹲在山里隐居了大半辈子，刷爆名士声望，才有了后来主持淝水之战的机会。
权威最麻烦的地方就在这里：
你建立它，往往需要耗费几十年的心血。
但把它挥霍干净，只需要几件小事就够了。
就像那句至理名言：
“挣钱如同针挑土，花钱犹如水推沙。”
事不是同一件事，理是同一个理。
03 权威是怎么死掉的？不是一拳打倒的
通常情况下，权威不是被谁一拳打倒的。
虽然在这片盐碱地上，我们曾经发明过一些相当高效的、关于“如何打倒反动阶级学术权威”的套路——包括但不限于铜头皮带、喷气式、当众游街等等等等，算得上是相当“短平快”的物理方法。
但那种方式打倒的是肉体，不是权威。
真正的权威，不是这样死的。
它是在日复一日中被一点点耗光的。
第一次吹牛，大家觉得：哎呀算了，原谅你一次。
第二次言行不一，大家心里开始有些怀疑。
第三次出纰漏，大家开始正儿八经地质疑了。
到了第四次、第五次——质疑变成了铺天盖地的嘲笑。
到了这一步，天就开始变了。
过去，大家听到权威发话，第一反应是：哎呀，赶紧照办。
后来变成：他们说的是真的吗？
再后来变成：他爱说啥说啥，关我蛋事。
一直到最后变成：他在台上越严肃认真，咱们就越想放声大笑。
而且最要命的是——
他一边强行捂住你的嘴不许你笑，一边又在一次一次地挑战基本常识，制造出更多笑料。
到了这个时候，权威才算彻底破产。
04 为什么权威特别害怕嘲笑？
权威最核心的东西，不是处罚能力，而是信用。
信用可以一点一点攒起来，但更可以大把大把地消耗掉。
当权威说的话跟现实越来越对不上号，
当权威开始肆无忌惮地滥用权力、想堵住天下人的悠悠之口，
——他越是表现得杀气腾腾，就越暴露他的脆弱。
再加上今天的信息环境，早就不是过去了。
那一套依靠信息垄断建立起来的威严，越来越难以维持。
普通人慢慢发现了一件过去很难发现的事：
原来高高在上的权威也会撒谎，也会狼狈，甚至也会害怕得发抖。
久而久之，社会心理就发生了一种变化。
这个变化未必是“我要豁出命去反对你”，而是：
你在台面上大放厥词，在台下的我们看来，还不如一团人体排出的废气。
那么问题来了：为什么权威特别害怕嘲笑？
权威不怕有人跟它正面硬刚。
如果你公开辩论——我可以用人海战术淹没你。
你写文章批判我——我可以删你的文章、封你的账号，甚至用物理手段收拾你。
但嘲笑不同，它完全是另一个维度。
它是在进行一种解构。
嘲笑不屑于跟你争论“对不对”，而是直接把你从神坛上拽下来，变成跟芸芸众生一样的俗人。
权威最害怕的不是有人正经地说“你错了”。
它害怕的是：有人一边笑着，一边指着它说——
“搞了半天，你就是这么个玩意儿？”
理解了这一点，你就能想通一个很多人困惑的观察：
为什么所有官员——也包括某些大厂高管——私底下聚会其实很幽默，可能比段子手还能扯，
但一到了公开场合，一个一个西装革履、表情肃穆，那气氛跟参加追悼会差不多？
不是他们天生就这个德行。
恰恰相反——不是他们不懂幽默，而是他们那个身份不允许幽默。
因为幽默会对“严肃感”造成最致命的解构。
一旦你下场开玩笑，原本那些庄严神圣的宏大叙事，就会被拉回一地鸡毛的日常生活：
哦，原来神仙也挖鼻屎啊。
原来皇帝也备受痔疮折磨啊。
这么一来，那个“无比正确、散发着神圣光芒”的符号，突然就变成一个跟你我一样会出丑、会窜稀、还会被嘲笑的俗物。
这就是幽默最要命的地方——
它不需要直接推翻你，它只要让大家笑一下。
笑一下，神坛就矮一截。
再笑一次，又矮一截。
一直笑到最后，大家甚至都记不起来——
当初到底为什么要去敬畏这么个东西。
所以你会发现：
一个神话或者一个权威的衰败，未必伴随着枪声，也不一定有人振臂高呼。
很可能就是在评论区里，留下了整齐划一的一行字：
“哈哈哈。”
05 当旧神倒了，新神会站起来吗？
聊到这儿，咱们可以总结一下了。
“竹知了”这件事映射出来的，早就不是一家下作的企业自己犯蠢搞出一场公关灾难那么简单。
它背后正在变化的，是整个时代的认知结构。
过去，大家习惯去相信那些站在神坛上的人。
他们告诉我们：什么是绝对正确的，什么必须是错误的，什么值得你奉献一生，什么又绝对不容半点怀疑。
到了今天，这套维系了很久的套路，正在以肉眼可见的速度垮掉。
而且这个过程——不可逆转。
终有一天，旧时代的权威会抵达它的终点。
大家会从漫长的规训中醒来，用最接地气、最粗暴、也最安全的方式，重新夺回属于普通人的解释权。
这就是一个大时代的片尾曲。
那么，咱们可以问一个小问题：
权威的碎裂，算不算一件好事？
当然是好事。确定一定以及肯定是好事。
在这个世界上，还有什么比一个瞎扯淡的权威垮掉更让人大快人心的事吗？
但是——好事归好事，这里还得补一句：
它是好事，不代表它只有好处。
旧的权威消失以后，普通人当然会获得很多东西——不再盲从，开始独立判断，质疑宏大叙事，用自己的方式发出声音。
这些当然都是时代的进步。
但随之而来的，是一个新问题：
当旧权威消失以后，到底由谁来告诉我们——什么东西值得相信？
这是一个藏着危险的问题。
因为，当人摆脱了错误的权威，并不会自动变成一个理性的人。
他只是终于获得了一个机会——一个由他自己去选择相信什么的机会。
如果观察大众的心理演变，你会发现一条清晰的路径：
最开始，盲目相信权威。
后来发现权威满嘴跑火车，根本不信。
再后来变成谁都不信——官方、专家、媒体，通通不可信。
再然后呢？
再然后，大家选择相信自己。
相信自己什么呢？
相信自己的信息茧房。
相信自己喜欢看的，相信自己喜欢听的，相信那些每天都在迎合自己情绪的玩意儿。
这不是从愚昧走到了理性。
这只是：从相信一个高高在上、不近人情的旧权威，变成相信了另一个更懂迎合的新权威。
有的人会在旧权威倒下后走向科学、走向独立思考。
但更多的人，会转身走入阴谋论、民粹主义、群体极端化。
因为人类这个物种，似乎无法长久地生活在一个“什么都不信”的空间里。
所以，旧的神像当然会在某一天碎成一地残渣。
但它屁股下面的那座神坛，未必会跟着一起消失。
很多时候，大家折腾了半天，到最后——
不过是换了一尊新神，重新坐了上去。
所以，当旧的神话碎了一地——
我们究竟是终于拿到了通往自由思考的钥匙？
还是开开心心走进了另一个更加精巧的新笼子？
这里没有答案。
至少今天还没有。
06 结尾：这件事唯一的好消息
过去，大家相信“未来一定会更好”，所以拼命奋斗。
相信那些权威说的话，所以必须服从。
今天，大家发现未来不见得更好，甚至可能更糟。
于是有了力工和散帅的自嘲。
大家发现权威说话不可信。
于是有了竹知了和西平泡面的解构。
我们现在，终于开始有了自己的判断，自己的怀疑，自己去寻找答案。
这条路的终点最终会通往哪里？
现在还无法预测。
但无论如何——一个胡扯的权威垮掉，总归是一件值得庆幸的好事。
至少，从这一刻开始，
我们这代人，不用再把“洗脑”当成唯一的答案了。