Rewriting the Narrative: How “The Great Resistance” Transforms Our Understanding of Agency and Change
Carrie Gibson’s The Great Resistance arrives at a time when the business and technology sectors are grappling with seismic shifts in diversity, equity, and governance. Yet, the book’s resonance extends well beyond the academic or historical sphere. By mapping the centuries-long struggle for freedom by enslaved Africans and their descendants—from Cuba’s plantations to the American South—Gibson offers a powerful lens through which today’s leaders can reexamine the meaning of resistance, agency, and systemic transformation.
Multiplicity of Voices: Rethinking Agency in Historical and Corporate Narratives
What sets Gibson’s work apart is her unflinching commitment to amplifying voices that history has too often silenced. While figures like Toussaint Louverture have become symbols of revolution, Gibson draws equal attention to lesser-known leaders such as King Claes, weaving a tapestry of resistance that is as varied as it is profound. This approach challenges the monocultural narratives that have dominated both historical and corporate storytelling, urging a shift toward inclusivity—not just as a buzzword, but as a foundational principle.
The implications for business and technology are immediate. In a global market where calls for diversity and inclusion are louder than ever, Gibson’s nuanced storytelling underscores the importance of recognizing agency at every level. The lessons here are not merely academic; they inform how organizations can move beyond tokenism, embedding equity into governance structures and decision-making processes. By drawing attention to the power of marginalized voices, The Great Resistance becomes a call to action for leaders to interrogate legacy systems and confront the historical omissions that continue to shape modern inequities.
Incremental Change: Lessons from Centuries of Resistance
Gibson’s narrative masterfully illustrates that systemic change is rarely the product of singular, dramatic events. Rather, it emerges from a mosaic of small, courageous acts—each a thread in the broader fabric of dissent. This long-view perspective holds particular relevance in an era defined by rapid regulatory shifts and the convergence of political and economic agendas.
For technologists and policymakers, the parallels are striking. Just as resistance movements of the past were built on incremental defiance—whether through clandestine networks or everyday acts of refusal—today’s activist movements and regulatory reforms are similarly cumulative. The recent evolution of ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) standards, for example, owes much to the persistent advocacy of those once sidelined in boardrooms and policy circles. Gibson’s insights remind us that meaningful transformation is often slow, but it is also enduring, rooted in the persistent efforts of individuals and collectives who refuse to accept the status quo.
Decentralization and Modern Governance: Echoes from Maroon Societies
One of the most compelling threads in The Great Resistance is Gibson’s exploration of maroon societies—autonomous communities formed by escaped slaves. These decentralized networks, forged in opposition to centralized power, offer a historical analogue to today’s technological trends. In the age of blockchain, decentralized finance (DeFi), and distributed autonomous organizations (DAOs), the spirit of maroon communities finds new expression.
The comparison is more than metaphorical. Both historical and contemporary decentralized systems are designed to resist domination, foster resilience, and empower participants. For business leaders and technologists, Gibson’s account offers a blueprint for governance frameworks that prioritize inclusivity and adaptability. By learning from the past, organizations can better navigate the complexities of modern decentralization, building systems that are both robust and equitable.
Memory, Policy, and the Perils of Simplification
Gibson’s critique of the selective celebration of events like the Haitian Revolution serves as a cautionary tale for today’s policymakers. When history is invoked to justify contemporary agendas, there is always a risk of oversimplification or manipulation. The challenge, as Gibson makes clear, is to honor the complexity of the past without reducing it to convenient soundbites.
For those shaping the future of business, technology, and governance, The Great Resistance is more than a chronicle of historical struggle. It is an invitation to embrace complexity, to recognize the power of overlooked voices, and to transform the lessons of resistance into a foundation for lasting, systemic change. In this narrative, the past is not a distant memory—it is a living force, shaping the possibilities of a more just and inclusive future.