Activism: how the drops inside the ocean are breaking down the dam
Ronan Loughney
From September 20-27th 2019, an estimated 7.6 million people took part in a series of strikes and protests around the world, demanding action to prevent climate change. Immediately after, Extinction Rebellion brought cities around the world to a standstill, including London, causing Boris Johnson to dismiss them as ‘hemp-smelling bivouac dwellers’. This remark (aside potentially from the use of the word ‘bivouac’) will have resonated with many people’s views of activists: hippy freeloaders, who dream self-indulgently of an impossible utopia whilst unwilling to get down and graft with the rest of us. But if you were on the ground in September or October, the remark would only have resonated for being profoundly untrue. These protests were unprecedented not only in their size, but in their ability to attract people from across age-groups and professional classes. Whilst there is still some way to go until climate activism is represented by the true diversity of those affected by it (due to the irony that often only the relatively privileged have the spare time and money to protest), the notion that activism is merely the preserve of dreadlocked, tie-dye wearing ‘Krusties’ (who we love by the way!) is demonstrably false.
These protests were the confirmation of the democratisation of activism, its spilling out of the campfire and into society at large. What connects these protesters is not their dress or background, but their belief in a better society and their own ability and responsibility in forming it. If there were any doubt that activism has become mainstream, we need look no further than School Strikes for Climate, which has engaged 14 million (!) activists, young and old, in a powerful indication of the commitment of the coming generations towards climate justice. Far from being petulantly disruptive, these activists are in fact the ‘Active Citizens’ of today, the most civic among us.
That term, Active Citizen, may conjure up visions of a bygone era, of conscription, or rebuilding post-war Britain, or even David Cameron’s Big Society project, but there is one key difference to these traditional conceptions. Whereas in the past our civic responsibility could be more or less conflated with our responsibility to grease the cogs of society, to help it run along in its existing fashion in as smooth a way as possible (by finding ourselves a niche within it as workers, parents, consumers), this is no longer the case. Today our state institutions, from education to healthcare to the police, face unprecedented public mistrust as well as ever diminishing funding as the result of an economic system based on the notion that human needs will be served by a self-regulating market (as opposed to targeted state support). In many Western societies, our institutions were created hundreds of years ago, and thus it is unsurprising they now struggle to cater to the needs of a society which would have been unrecognisable to those who founded them.
Active citizenship therefore can no longer be defined as blindly trusting in the competence or benevolence of such institutions. Rather, it is the realisation of the responsibility we all have to reimagine these institutions and society itself in an age of ecological and (post-Covid) economic emergency. Historically centralised, hierarchical models of power have taken civilisation to unimaginable heights, but by their very structure perpetuate the interests of the rich and powerful at the expense of the rest, sustaining the inequality which drives the necessity for constant growth and consumerism which in turn drives climate change.
Activists stand up against these power structures because they believe they have ceased to serve society’s interests. There are various means by which to do this, but there is a general consensus within the activist community, and certainly within groups such as School Strikes for Climate, XR, Friends of the Earth and Greenpeace, that the most effective form of protest is Non-violent Direct Action (NVDA). The abiding principle behind this is to cause the most disruption possible, whilst never causing harm or resorting to violence. This is so that existing power-brokers have to pay attention, but cannot be justified either in their own use of force or in legitimately condemning protesters’ actions as disproportionate to their aims. Examples are closing down major junctions through road blocks, blockading entrances to banks and other institutions, or refusing to go to school until meaningful climate action is taken by governments. This creates pressure on institutions to change by means of disrupting the smooth functioning of society, whilst also raising public awareness which in turn creates more pressure.
These behaviours are often painted, in the media for example, as destructive and anarchic, serving only to hamstring the state in its aims of providing for its people. Such actions are represented as if the means are disproportionate to the ends. But can it really be argued that what is foreseen as the greatest threat humanity has faced for thousands of years, the effects of which are already palpable now, should not be combated with the greatest urgency imaginable, let alone a week or so of roadblocks? Although it may seem extreme to some, the law breaking inherent in NVDA only arises as a technicality, a means of holding a mirror up to society to show itself its own absurdity: that people can be arrested for defending the current and long term interests of the planet whilst CEOs of fossil fuel companies are rewarded with astronomical yearly bonuses for doing precisely the opposite.
Of course, this type of protest is not for everyone. As mentioned, on-the-ground activism can exclude those without the resources to attend in person. Thankfully, as with any complex issue, multiple approaches, accessible to different parts of society, are not only available but necessary. Signing online petitions for example, although often dismissed as mere ‘slacktivism’, can be hugely effective. One example is the petition successfully protesting the construction of the Keystone Pipeline. It is not that the petition was sufficient in itself, but that it helped demonstrate public support for the issue. In conjunction with the efforts of the activists protesting on the ground, it raised awareness of the issue further through generating media coverage, ultimately creating unignorable pressure on governments and corporations to act in the public interest. Writing letters to your Member of Parliament is another effective way of creating public pressure, whilst having the added benefit of confronting government representatives with a personalised voice coming from a constituent they are responsible for serving.
The Anthropologist Margaret Mead famously said: ‘Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.’ Which is to say, activism works, and climate activism is no different. The Extinction Rebellion protests directly led to Britain becoming the first country in the world to declare a climate emergency. And the School Strikes for Climate saw Greta Thunberg become an unignorable international symbol for the fight against climate change, voted Times Person of the Year in 2019, after which the term ‘The Greta effect’ was coined to describe the marked shifts in global finance, politics and citizen behaviours her (and others’) activism precipitated.
For all of us who care about the climate, we have a responsibility to speak (and demonstrate) truth to power. Because it works. Because it is necessary. It’s like my Mum always said, ‘Yes, you are a drop in the ocean. But the ocean is made out of drops.’
To see how you might like to get involved, take a look at:
