Can Performative Activism Actually Make a Difference?

(bright music) - Hey, everyone, Myles Bess here, journalist, host of Above the Noise, and I'll admit it, occasional lazy poster on social media.

You know what I'm talking about, right?

"Repost this to save the rainforest," or that cool-looking infographic that just goes with your vibe, or that deep-sounding quote from that one person who retweeted that one time.

It takes you 10 seconds to do and you don't have to think about it for the rest of your day.

Now, it goes by different names: formative activism, slacktivism, clicktivism, performative wokeness.

And it's usually defined as activism done to increase one's social capital rather than because of one's devotion to the cause.

Now I translate that to basically, you're looking like you care but that you really don't.

It's putting the spotlight on yourself, many times for those glorious, delicious likes, that clout.

Now, a lot of people look down on performative activism as just empty, selfish gestures, and I totally get that.

But is that always true?

That's why I'm asking.

When, if ever, does performative activism become real activism that legit benefits a cause?

(upbeat music) (record scratches) One of the core complaints about performative activism is that it's kind of virtue signaling, where you publicly express an opinion to demonstrate just how woke you are.

Like when Pride Month comes around and a bunch of people just slap rainbows on their profile pics, and then on July 1st, boom, it's gone.

And when brands do this at the same time while they're trying to sell me a toaster or something, (sighs) it just irks me.

It just grinds my gears.

(chuckles) Now, don't get me wrong.

I'm not saying all activism that happens on social media is shallow and performative.

There's lots of real genuine people who are doing the work to make a difference in something that they truly believe in.

I mean, Gretta Thunberg is a social media rockstar.

She probably gets more likes in a day than I'll get in my whole life, and that's just something that I have to live with.

But do I think that's more important to her than fighting tooth and nail to address climate change?

No, I don't.

From my perspective, she seems as genuine as they come.

But, that right there is the issue, isn't it?

Labeling something performative or genuine is in the eye of the beholder, right?

I'm judging the intention behind someone else's action.

Now, when an influencer shows up to a boarded up store with a drill and snaps a picture for the 'Gram and then immediately gets out and dodge without actually doing anything, I think we'd all agree that that's performative.

But most of the time, this stuff isn't so black and white.

There's a lot of gray area in there.

Now, for me, performative activism hit a peak during the Black Lives Matter protest last year.

Do you remember Blackout Tuesday?

It stemmed from an original campaign by two black music executives after the murder of George Floyd.

The point was to raise awareness around police brutality and systemic racism.

Then, the black squares happened.

Millions of people were swapping out their profile pics for solid black squares to show solidarity.

And then, I saw the backlash.

A bunch of people were calling out a bunch of other people for doing the whole black square thing.

It was like, "Who are these squares for?

Because it kind of seems like a bunch of people are just jumping on a trend to make themselves feel good for participating."

So I did some digging, and it seems to me that you can make the argument that what happened actually hurt the very cause those black squares were supposed to be helping.

See, a lot of them used the #BlackLivesMatter hashtag so row after row, after row, after row clogged up the feed, and a lot of them didn't include any useful info about BLM.

Problem is, Black Lives Matter activists use that hashtag to coordinate activities and relay important information.

Feminista Jones, an author, activist, and staple on black Twitter summed up what happened like this.

"They thought this little black box was going to be solidarity.

I'm like, 'This is not how movements work.

This is not how we're supposed to be using social media.'

And people fell for it because it takes minimal work and minimal effort."

So that's one of the best examples I can point to that really highlights how performative activism on social media can be harmful.

But that wasn't enough for me.

I wanted to find some research, some hard data that came to the same conclusion.

Show me the data.

Show me the data!

Where's the data?

And what I found didn't really have any clear-cut answers.

So some research found that people who posted support or calls online were not any more likely to donate money than someone who didn't post anything about the cause.

One possible explanation for this is that they thought that they had already did their part and that they didn't need to do anything else.

And I guess you could say that that's one point for the performative activism as bad argument.

But other research found the opposite.

People who posted about a cause online were more likely to attend a meeting offline or donate money than people who just stayed silent on social media.

I guess you could say that that's one point for the performative activism might be good argument.

And that's when it hit me.

Online activism, including stuff that a bunch of people might judge as performative, can be pretty powerful in spreading awareness about a cause and attracting other people who might not have ever engaged with it in the first place.

Back in the early 2010s, millions of tweets helped to shape the debate around the Arab Spring.

Now, if you don't remember what that was, it was a series of pro-democracy uprisings across a bunch of countries in the Middle East and North Africa.

The #MeToo hashtag helped make hidden sexual abuse and sexual harassment visible.

And yes, brands might throw gay Pride symbols all over their logos during Pride Month while they're still trying to sell me that toaster.

It's right there, isn't it?

I could just feel it over here somewhere.

I could just tell that it's there.

But maybe, just maybe, that doesn't matter.

Maybe that's one teeny, tiny step towards normalizing LGBTQ issues.

And when it comes to BLM, there's some pretty solid data supporting this.

When George Floyd was murdered on May 25th, 2020, a larger sample of Americans were asked, "Do you support or oppose the Black Lives Matter movement?"

45% answered that they supported it.

Just nine days later, the day after Blackout Tuesday, after a huge amounts of action on social media, including those black squares, 52% of people answering that question supported the movement.

That's a pretty massive swing in a short period of time.

Also, a popular site that processes online donations, much of which goes to racial justice causes, hit $41 million on Blackout Tuesday.

That's double their previous record for one 24-hour period.

Now, I'm by no means saying performative activism is the reason for all of this, but I think you can make the argument that it played a part.

Regardless of your opinion on BLM, most people in the U.S. are now familiar with it.

This has all made me think a little more deeply about how I use social media.

I wanna be a responsible online citizen.

Now, I've definitely been guilty of just reposting or retweeting something without necessarily reading the entire article.

And it's like, yeah, I wanna help, but I have to take that extra step.

What else am I willing to do?

Am I willing to read that article?

Am I willing to sign that position, or call my congressmen, or even go to a rally?

Am I willing to educate myself so I understand what's really going on and I don't just go around posting bogus information?

But, at the same time, social media, by its very nature, is performative.

We're showing ourselves off to the world.

You're showing yourself on vacation or showing that new cool thing you just did.

I don't wanna avoid speaking my mind out of fear of being seen as fake.

That's just like putting a muzzle on myself, and that's definitely not cool.

I'm not down with that.

So what I am gonna do is still do my thing, and post, and do a little more research, but I'm gonna be little more thoughtful about it and not just mindlessly reacting.

But, what do you all think?

How do you avoid performative activism and use your online voice to support a cause?

Oh, while you're still here, check out this other video we did that asks the question: Is there a white right... Dang it.

Is there a white way to protest?

- Is there a white way- - Yeah, yeah.

(Myles laughs) (indistinct chatter) And while you're still here, check out this other video we did that asks the question: Is there a right way to protest?

And not to scare you or anything, but you should check out this one on how schools might be watching what you post online.

Dun-dun-dun.

I'm just playing.

Until next time, I'm Myles Bess.

Peace out.