How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them by Jason Stanley, the Jacob Urowsky Professor of Philosophy at Yale University, is essential reading for anti-authoritarians. Don’t be scared off by the word “philosophy” in Mr. Stanley’s credentials. This book provides a short, accessible guide to understanding the fascistic tactic that are being deployed by authoritarians in the U.S.
As you read How Fascism Works, you will see that Mr. Stanley doesn’t warn that fascism is necessarily what looms on the horizon as fascism is a particular, modern world political construct. In these very postmodern times, many forms of authoritarianism may assert themselves. But, the way in which authoritarian is likely to succeed is through the deployment of fascistic political tactics.
The author’s simple, straight forward way of describing fascistic politics is compelling, memorable, and very useful, especially if you don’t limit applications of Mr. Stanley’s analytical framework to aspiring autocrats, but also use it to examine the way activist factions across the political spectrum often inadvertently rely on similar tactics, if toward different ends.
Here’s a short summary to whet your appetite.
Fascistic politics, as described by Jason Stanley, function by weaving a powerful narrative of division, manipulation, and fear—drawing directly from the authoritarian playbook. It starts with describing the way authoritarians conjure and exploit a mythic past, a time when the nation or a particular group supposedly stood tall, untainted by the corruption of today. This past is more fantasy than reality, but it carries weight because it taps into a collective desire for order and nostalgia in the face of perceived decline. The promise? Return to greatness. The cost? The dismantling of democracy and the exclusion of those deemed unworthy.
At the heart of this agenda is propaganda—an unrelenting wave of lies and distortions that create an alternate universe. This isn’t just about controlling the narrative; it’s about blurring the lines between truth and falsehood until reality itself feels malleable. In that fog, anti-intellectualism takes root. Those who challenge the regime’s version of reality—academics, journalists, thinkers—are dismissed as out-of-touch elites, enemies of the people. It’s a direct assault on reason, replacing rational debate with emotional appeals to loyalty and obedience.
The result is what Stanley calls unreality—a constant churn of conflicting information that makes it nearly impossible for people to distinguish fact from fiction. Fascistic politics thrive on this chaos, because in confusion, authoritarianism can tighten its grip.
And then there’s the promotion of hierarchy as a foundation of order. Fascism asserts that there’s a natural order—some people are simply better, stronger, more deserving. This idea of inherent superiority justifies every exclusion, every act of repression. The powerful are righteous in their dominance, and the marginalized become scapegoats for society’s ills.
But it’s not just about domination—it’s about convincing the majority that they’re the real victims. Victimhood becomes a tool of manipulation, painting the privileged group as under siege by immigrants, minorities, or perceived outsiders. This inversion of reality galvanizes support, justifies brutality, and rallies a frightened populace under the banner of law and order. Crime, they say, is a product of moral decay. And guess who’s to blame? The very people they’ve already marginalized.
This is where sexual anxiety comes into play. Fascistic politics thrive on traditional gender roles, using changes in gender norms as further evidence of society’s decline. The push for women’s rights, LGBTQ+ acceptance—it’s all framed as a threat to the fabric of the nation. It’s fear mongering, designed to pit people against one another by stirring up anxieties about what’s “natural” and what’s “dangerous.”
And it’s not just the urban elites who are framed as the enemy—anti-urbanism casts cities as places of corruption and decay, in contrast to the rural heartland where “real” values supposedly live. The message is clear: the true nation isn’t diverse, cosmopolitan, or pluralistic. It’s homogeneous, white, straight, Christian, and rural.
Fascistic politics are a game of us vs. them—creating enemies out of difference, out of diversity. If you’re not part of the in-group, you’re expendable. The system needs someone to blame, and whether it's immigrants, racial minorities, or political dissidents, the “other” must always be the source of the nation’s problems.
In this world, anti-pluralism reigns. Differences are dangerous, and only a singular national identity can keep the country safe. Pluralism—diversity of thought, race, culture—is cast as the enemy of unity, and authoritarianism steps in as the cure.
And the solution, as always, is militarism. Fascistic politics glorify violence and strength, making the figure of the strongman—whether in uniform or in office—a symbol of hope. Order will be restored, they say, not through consensus but through force.
So here’s the bottom line: fascistic politics don’t just appear overnight. They build through division, fear, and false narratives. They create a world where we no longer trust each other, where difference feels like danger, and where democracy erodes under the weight of authoritarian control.