barefaced lies. In deferring to Abigail, these men are guilty of a grave dereliction of duty, as well as moral cowardice. By the time Reverend Hale accepts the truth of Abigail's deceit, it is too late to quell the hysteria, and many innocents have already been put to death.

What's interesting about power in Salem is that the witch trials have seemingly flipped the traditional balance of power in this normally patriarchal, Puritan society, leaving the fate of the town in the hands of a small group of teenage girls. A young orphan without many prospects in life, Abigail previously existed very much in the margins of Salem society. Now, as the ringleader of the accusers, Abigail is the center of attention, and she's not about to give up her exalted position. She positively revels in her newfound power and status—having never had either before, she seems to find the experience intoxicating.

Power shifts several times in The Crucible.  First, Tituba and the girls become extremely powerful at the end of Act 1; a slave and a group of young girls are hardly the sort of people who would typically have a great deal of power in Salem in 1692: consider Parris's threat to beat both Tituba and Abigail in this act.  However, with their accusations of witchcraft, accusations that seem to confirm the worst fears of a few, power shifts away from those who typically have it to those who typically don't.  The cause?  Fear.  The accusations seem to justify the fears of people like Mrs. Putnam, and once others begin to realize the extreme power the girls now wield (as well as how they might help put this power to use for their own ends), the girls' power is cemented.

Later, in Act Three, the power typically held by a judge or the deputy governor of the colony is shifted away from them and onto the girls.  Again, fear is the major reason for the shift.  Danforth first acquires his power by instilling fear in others.  He tells Francis Nurse that "a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there be no road between."  His goal seems to be to make people afraid that they will be considered one of the individuals who are "against" the court; such a fear would silence them and prevent them from preventing evidence that would seem to contradict the girls' statements.  Abigail then shifts the power dynamic again when she instills fear in Danforth.  When Proctor confesses his affair with Abigail and Danforth questions her about it, she eventually says "in an open threat: Let you beware, Mr. Danforth.  Think you to be so mighty that the power of Hell may not turn your wits?  Beware of it!"  Thus, she threatens him with an accusation, making him fearful, and causing him to defer to her power moving forward.  

All of these shifts seem to teach us that fear is dangerous.  Fear strips us of our reason and our compassion, compelling us to behave in ways that we normally would not, to believe statements we would typically doubt.  John F. Kennedy once said that "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," and The Crucible seems to support such a statement. 

Mr. Hale eventually uses his power in a positive way.  It takes him a while to come around to the idea that the court in Salem is corrupt and that the girls are not being truthful, but once he does realize this in Act III, he tries to step in.  Hale tries to stick up for the Proctors when Elizabeth tells a lie to protect John after he'd sworn that she would never lie.  When Mary Warren accuses John of witchcraft, Hale argues that "this child's gone wild!" and he "denounce[s] these proceedings" by the end of the act.    

By Act IV, Hale has returned to Salem to try to convince those who are about to be hanged for witchcraft, John Proctor included, to confess so that they will not lose their lives.  He insists that Danforth "must pardon them," though Danforth will not because others have already been put to death for the same crimes.  Hale tells Elizabeth, "cleave to no faith when faith brings blood.  It is mistaken law that leads you to sacrifice.  Life, woman, life is God's most precious gift; no principle, however glorious, may justify the taking of it."  Although Hale is, ultimately, unsuccessful at saving anyone from death, he does try, and he's one of the only -- if not the only -- person who actually uses their power to try to do good.  Danforth, Hathorne, Parris, Putnam: they're all corrupt in their own ways.

Within a Puritan society, adolescent girls were ranked only above slaves. It was a patriarchal culture, and even adult women had little empowerment, being relegated to caring for the home and children. They had no role in public life or theocratic government. Without the social legitimacy of a husband and children, a teenage girl was essentially a nonentity.

Within the context of a Puritan society, then, it is nothing short of extraordinary when the girls' accusations begin to gain traction and the court officials turn to them to produce testimony to convict men and women of Salem based only on the girls' assertions and the accused's refusal to confess.

The word of adult men, including John Proctor, Giles Corey, and Francis Nurse, as well as the urging of John Hale—a minister, no less—is considered less reliable than that of young girl. This marks an extraordinary power shift in Salem. The theocracy makes the fatal mistake of empowering a group of girls who, having been virtually invisible their whole lives, now have the ability to take down the innocent.

There are several characters who experience significant shifts in power in the play. Abigail Williams and Reverend Hale present the most compelling examples of characters who change in relation to the possession or attribution of power. 

Abigail is nearly powerless at the opening of the play, gossip has gotten around about her being fired from the Proctor house and she is accused of dancing naked in the woods. From this position Abigail rises to prominence and influence, ultimately playing an instrumental role in "proving" the guilt of both John Proctor and Elizabeth Proctor. 

Reverend Hale arrives with a significant moral authority at the beginning of the play only to lose that authority entirely when he realizes that the witchcraft claims are false. He further slides away from any moral authority when he fails to speak out publically against the trials. 

...he lacks the moral conviction to act against proceedings that will condemn innocents to death.

I would argue that Reverend Parris experiences the most intense shift of political power in the work.  On one hand, Parris represents the pinnacle of power.  At the time, Salem's political power rested with the spiritual authority.  Therefore, as the town's reverend, Parris enjoyed a great deal of political power.  This is seen in the trials and the discourse leading to it.  By the time Act III unfolds, Parris is massively powerful.  Yet, in Act IV, the vision of Parris that is rendered is one where there is complete and utter disintegration.  Parris understands that his position in the Salem social configuration is rapidly descending, something highlighted by the death threats as well as the lack of public support in the trial.  At the same time, Parris understands that he is no longer seen as a spiritual force as the trials are becoming more transparent as a political exercise that has lost legitimacy with the public.  Miller's epilogue to the drama, "Echoes Down the Corridor," reveals this shift and transformation as complete.  The ending of the trials results in Parris leaving Salem "on the open road" and never being heard from again.  In this, Parris experiences the greatest amount of shift in political power.

The most glaring example of power that is dynamic would rest with Abigail. On one hand, she starts out in the drama with little power.  As the drama continues and the accusations increase, her power increases with it.  She gets to a point where she is literally able to dictate the affairs of Salem.  As Act IV opens, her power has disappeared as the citizens of Salem have become resentful of the trials.  She leaves.  At the same time, Proctor's power is also shown to be fluid.  For most of the drama, he has not been able to demonstrates much in way of power.  Yet, in the end of the drama, when he recognizes the importance of his name and the transcendent quality it carries, Proctor asserts his own power.  It is a construction that is fluid and when Proctor recognizes the significance of his own name, it is a point in which he has power.  Like Abigail, Reverend Parris experiences the fluid dynamics of power.  From being at a point where power is challenging for him, he ends wielding much of it in Act III.  The end of the drama is one in which Parris ends up having to leave Salem for he has lost his power.  It is through this image that Miller suggests that power is a fluid construct and individuals must understand this reality in the process of using it in the modern setting.