Introduction

Populism

Definitions and conceptions of what, precisely, “populism” is and how it functions vary fairly widely across disciplines. Sociologically speaking, “populism” is a “political phenomenon” (Galito, 2018: 54), the definition of which cannot be fully agreed-upon beyond that most basic and simplistic level. Galito (2018) notes that “In developed countries, populism often has a pejorative connotation” (55), while “in asymmetric societies… populism can be understood as an act of courage, in favour of ‘integrity’, against the corruption of the rich” (55). As such, populism can be the structure against which we dissent, or the very apparatus by which dissent is enacted. Thus, Galito (2018) argues, “populism is a paradox of representative democracy” (56).

From the social psychological perspective, this paradoxical populism produces a kind of politics whereby some people perceive that they receive less than they deserve compared to other groups within a political system controlled by an elite or entrenched establishment (cf. Smith et al., 2012). Often they believe that they are getting less than they deserve because elite decision-makers are using unfair procedures in allocating outcomes to different groups, whether economically, socially, or politically. Those making up a populist movement may or may not even define themselves as a group, per se, instead understanding themselves as followers of a figurehead or even system of beliefs, as in the United States, for example, with Trump or Bernie Sanders supporters in 2016, or Populist Party members in 1892.

Within a framework of leadership, the populism paradox produces a second, equally complex paradigm: that of the populist leader. By definition, populism is popular—that is, of or by “the people,” an “expression of popular will” (Galito, 2018: 57) rather than the product of any individual leader. And yet, as is particularly evident in Western nations such as the United States and the United Kingdom, populist movements can and do arise in response to specific—often charismatic (even toxic)–leaders who seek to galvanize followers who feel “they are not integrated into the society they criticize and thus win the loyalty of the electorate that is considered”—or, as in the United States, considers itself—“excluded” (Galito, 2018: 55). These populist leaders often “have a mobilising ability, charismatic attributes and generate a cult of personality” (Galito, 2018: 59), which draws followers to them while simultaneously rejecting (and being rejected by) oppositional positions and persons. They are polarizing, often radically so, and the ensuing conflict, whether social, political, economic, or religious, manifests “in a power struggle under the law of the strongest” (Galito, 2018: 60).

Nevertheless, populism is not, in and of itself, inherently evil. Popular movements must also be credited with the overthrow of authoritarian regimes, as in the bloodless revolutions of the Soviet Bloc, and the dismantling of government-sanctioned racism in the Jim Crow South and the South African Apartheid. It is important to remember the paradox of populism if we are to fully understand—and react to—its allure. As Alvares and Dahlgren (2016) remind us, the “fundamental problem is not necessarily populism, but the political orientation that mobilises it” (49). It is therefore critical for leaders (and scholars of leadership) to understand the workings and pitfalls of populism, both historically and within contemporary politics and society.

Dissent

Dissent, understood as reactionary and often revolutionary, thus stands both alongside and in opposition to populism as a mechanism for change. By itself, dissent is powerful “because,” explains Toscano (2008), “without it there can be no consent… Consent draws its power from the possibility of dissent” (170). And yet, like populism, dissent occupies a position of paradox; it is desirable in the abstract, but far more often condemned, especially by leaders, in the concrete and immediate (Martin, 2008).

Also like populism, dissent takes a variety of forms, from linguistic and symbolic to satirical and humorous to spatial and geographic to aggression, rudeness, and violence. This variety in form contributes to the paradoxical nature of dissent. On the one hand, as Toscano (2008) remarks, “dissent is holy” (170), while, on another, radical dissent in the form of violence, “including terrorism… as a method of dissent” (Martin, 2008: 27), is and rightly should be condemned.

Yet no matter the form which dissent assumes, it nevertheless serves as the proverbial canary in the sociopolitical coalmine: “Dissenters can be likened to a body’s warning systems. Pain is not pleasant but it is valuable if it prevents a damaging action or draws attention to a serious problem” (Martin, 2008: 33). Thus dissent, particularly widespread or popular dissent, serves as an identifier for a larger problem—one which is frequently tied to leadership or a failure thereof.

If, as we suggest, this is the case, it is vital that we—as leaders and followers—make space (whether literal or symbolic) for dissent in our societies, governments, and organizations. The practice of dissent is especially critical, argues Lipman-Blumen (2008), in times of crisis: “crises create hothouse conditions for squelching dissenters and their messages, despite the potential importance of their warnings” (37). In the case of many recent populist movements, this “squelching” of dissent (whether by the populist movement itself reacting against social structures, from within the ranks of a populist movement against its dominant paradigms, or by the institution against which that movement arose—or all of the above) is symptomatic of authoritarianism and toxic leadership, making the need for that dissent all the more necessary.

Psychologically speaking, dissent for an individual is difficult. It entails not conforming to peers and/or not obeying authority. Research in social psychology demonstrated years ago that people go to surprisingly great lengths to avoid nonconformity or disobedience (Asch, 1956; Milgram, 1974). Dissent is difficult enough in everyday interaction, in informal social communication (Festinger, 1950) or in the workplace. It may be particularly difficult from within social movements, such as populism, where affective connections between group members and between leaders and followers make conformity or disobedience more than ordinarily difficult (Freud, 1921). In whatever context, individuals are subject to some combination of informational social influence, the information that peers provide about “social reality” and normative social influence, and the concern that other group members may criticize, ostracize, or worse (Kelley, 1952). Both forms of social influence inhibit nonconformity. With respect to disobedience, authority figures draw on multiple forms of power to suppress obedience, including the capacity to reward and punish, referent power (from being liked and respected), legitimate power (from holding a position of authority), and expertise (French and Raven, 1959). Both individuals and groups can maximize their impact by being perceived as strong and also as being nearby (Latane, 1981; Milgram, 1974).

Some of the same research shows that people do sometimes deviate from the group or resist pressure from authority. Often a single dissenter, or a group of dissenters, can release constraints on other individuals who can collectively dissent by not conforming or by not obeying. Dissent may depend, then, on whether an initial dissenter speaks out, and whether other people follow that individual. Groups or authorities may suppress individual dissent, or that dissent may take on real power, power enough to change group belief, group behavior, or constrain authority.

Research on “minority influence” illuminates when dissent by a single individual or small group can actually produce attitude or behavior change (Moscovici, 1980). If the minority is a small group rather than a single individual, it is essential that the group have high internal consensus. It must present a united front. The united front can suggest that the minority is really onto something real. The lack of consensus within the minority can be seen by the majority as meaning that the divergent views of the few really do not have to be taken seriously. Whether the minority is an individual or group, it must be consistent overtime in expressing its dissenting opinion. A consistently articulated view by a minority can actually spur more thinking than a majority opinion that is simply yielded to because of a presumption that the majority knows what it is talking about or might respond harshly to dissent.

This special issue—“Populism and Dissent”—therefore focuses on the importance of such disruption to the transformation and cultivation of inclusive communities within (and, often, opposed to) this new populist context. The articles in this issue are drawn from practice, social science, and humanities disciplines, and together seek to demonstrate the intellectual, critical, and practical value of interrogating our understanding of populism, dissent, and the corresponding significance of leaders and followers.

Perspectives on populism and dissent: Issue overview

Within this special issue, we draw on historical, philosophical, organizational, psychological, and cultural critiques using the patterns of history and cultural production as well as research from psychology, sociology, and organizational leadership to better recognize and understand our present sociopolitical and leadership contexts. In the process, we bring to bear scholarship which evaluates the contexts, causes, ethics, and possible consequences of modern populism and dissent.

We begin with an essay by George Goethals entitled “Donald Trump, perceptions of justice, and populism,” which considers central elements of Trump’s nativist, nationalistic variety of populism. It notes that populism often rests on feeling of unfair relative deprivation resulting from unfair decision-making procedures of elites. Trump's rhetoric often stated or implied that his supporters got less than they deserved because they were disrespected or distained by a powerful elite. The dynamics of the 2016 election made it easy for Trump supporters to feel that he respected and valued them while Democratic elites did not.

The study reported by co-authors Julie Christian and Daniella Nayyar, along with Ronald Riggio and Dominic Abrams, “Them and us: Did Democrat inclusiveness and Republican solidarity lead to the 2016 US presidential election outcome?”, analyzes Democrats' and Republicans’ views of themselves and their opponents in the 2016 presidential election, finding that Republicans viewed themselves as more homogeneous than Democrats and were more hostile to outgroups than Democrats. It raises the interesting possibility that Hillary Clinton and the Democrats may have lost the election because their identity was more diffuse than the more focused Republican identity that was clearer about itself and its opponents.

The third essay, “Social conflict, civil society, and maternal mortality in African countries” by Iyabo Obasanjo, looks at the effect of both government riots and anti-government demonstrations in African nations on democratic governance and civil society freedom. Those societies that allow more freedom to dissent seem to function better, and, in particular, have better health outcomes as measured by maternal mortality. A healthy and flourishing country has higher levels of political freedom.

Our fourth piece, Kristin MS Bezio’s “Ctrl-Alt-Del: GamerGate as a precursor to the rise of the alt-right,” turns away from psychological and sociological research, bringing to bear a cultural critique of the language and history underpinning the alt-right movement in the 21st century United States. Bezio examines the rise of alt-right populism with relation to an online populist movement known as “GamerGate,” tying the rhetoric of this earlier movement explicitly to the alt-right. Furthermore, the piece examines the historical trajectory of computer programming and the internet to suggest that the exclusivity of these communities contributed to the toxicity of both GamerGate and the alt-right.

From the dissemination of online toxicity, we move to Darrell Burrell and Emad Rahim’s “Developing Inclusive Leaders with Religious Literacy in the Workplace,” which demonstrates the increase in and problems with Western Islamophobia in an organizational context as a result of recent populist movements against immigration and Muslims. Their essay concludes with a recommendation for increased acceptance—not just tolerance—of religious diversity in the workplace as a necessary component of a more just society.

We conclude this special issue of Leadership with Siiri Pöyhönen’s recommendation for geospatial dissent, explained in “Room for communitas: Exploring sociomaterial construction of leadership in liminal and dominant spaces.” In her piece, Pöyhönen argues that we can begin to disrupt oppressive and authoritarian control through a reconfiguration of space; she presents the organizational example of creating communal and non-specific spaces as a means of dismantling hierarchical power structures, enabling the creation of cross-class community building as a potential inoculation against class- and hierarchy-based toxicity.

Taken together, these disparate disciplinary approaches to populism, leadership, and the importance of dissent combine to suggest the need for increasingly critical examinations of language, culture, and leadership praxis as an antidote to the increasing hostility, toxicity, and exclusionary populism of the 21st century. It is our hope that this special issue presents fodder for critical thought as well as potential avenues for scholarly, leadership, and organizational action which can help us to better understand and improve our rapidly changing world.