Inconspicuous refusal and quiet remarkability

Making a difference IRL

Fortepan / Peter, Isaac

In 1971, the jazz poet and singer Gil Scott-Heron released his spoken-word song „The Revolution Will Not Be Televised:“

“The revolution will not be televised

Will not be televised

Will not be televised

Will not be televised

The revolution will be no re-run, brothers

The revolution will be live“

A student drew my attention to the song when he talked about his way of protesting against the planned obsolescence of capitalist commodity cycles: he spends his weekends repairing old motorcycles from the GDR. The story, as easy to criticize as it is, touched me because of his refusal’s quiet, concrete, and constructive nature. In a time of loud political rebellion aimed at maximum media attention, he preferred a more tranquil and, at the same time, immediately effective way of opposing structures with which he disagreed. Again, one does not have to share his anti-capitalist position to start thinking about less demonstrative forms of political involvement. While conspicuous protests may generate short-term attention and create a good feeling, quiet actions can have a much more lasting impact. Here’s a list of seven ways to inconspicuously say no.

Don’t have an opinion

As a scholar specializing in material culture and aesthetics, I receive many media requests concerning all things consumption. At first, I welcomed the opportunity to bring a scientific perspective to public debate and felt flattered about being asked. After a while, however, I noticed that I commented on issues I knew little about. Once established as „an expert,“ there were relatively few things journalists didn’t consider me qualified to say something about. But I wasn’t. I decided to only accept interviews on topics I had, to a reasonable extent, done some research on myself.

The reason I couldn`t resist becoming „an expert“ with opinions on far more topics than I’m knowledgeable about can be explained easily. David Pinsof argues that opinions are a way to impress others and improve your social standing:

„We all know, deep down, that when people give us their opinion, they’re trying to be better than us. We can feel it. (...) When we play the opinion game, we (...) downplay the arbitrariness of our preferences. We exaggerate their connection to external reality.“

If this is true, it’s hard to opt out of the opinion game, as Gurwinder Bhogal points out in his piece about the matter. Today, he observes,

„people feel compelled to take a stance on everything (...) they’ll often just hastily make one up, ad-libbing without regard to facts or logic, rather than admitting they don’t know.“

Since no one likes to be proven wrong, Gurwinder concludes, people’s „impromptu views, which they cobbled together from whim and half-remembered hearsay, will often become their new hills to die on.“

So, the next time you feel tempted to chime in, try to refuse being part of the opinion game. Resist the pressure of a hot take. Pause. Get more information. Reason carefully. Then post. Maybe.

Do something noteworthy and don’t tell anybody

Irmela Mensah-Schramm, a 78-year-old resident of Berlin, has been fighting hate messages in public spaces for over 40 years. As the Swiss newspaper Neue Zürcher Zeitung reports, Ms Mensah-Schramm removed well over 100,000 Nazi stickers, swastikas, and anti-Semitic slogans in her life. She scrapes, scratches, and sprays to curb the normalization of inhumane messages. During her volunteer work, she was repeatedly injured or taken to court by her opponents.

While Ms Mensah-Schramm documents her work, it’s fair to say that it’s not performative in the sense of Instagrammable activism:

“Mensah-Schramm took part in a demonstration in Berlin – until she saw that Nazi stickers were stuck to the edge of the demonstration. ‚Everyone walked past them!‘ she says, waving her hand. If you listen to Mensah-Schramm for a while, follow her, observe her, it becomes clear that she has almost as much trouble with those who mean well as those who mean harm.“

What I like about her example is that she apparently doesn’t care about her 15 minutes of fame but about doing the right thing. Courage matters more to her than winning „a beauty contest for beliefs“ (Gurwinder).

Do real things in the real world

Another aspect of Irmela Mensah-Schramm’s story and many other unsung heroes is that she tries to positively impact her community rather than impress people in another part of the world or yell at a „system“ that is everywhere and, therefore, nowhere. She does real things in the real world. Coach Brad Stulberg puts it like this:

„It is hard to get out of touch with the world (...) when you are working hard on something that is concrete, and when your successes are earned and your failures cannot be rationalized by corporate mumbo jumbo or social media hot takes.“

Brad’s examples are weightlifting, running, gardening, sculpting, or woodworking—activities that involve actual friction and aim at tangible results, outcomes that you might as well miss. His brick-and-mortar approach works well for personal development. But it’s also a valuable lens in political contexts to avoid becoming disrespectful to those risking something to make a real difference every day.

Do something over the long haul

The temporal equivalent of grounded action is long-term commitment. Just like it’s harder to make a real-life difference than to be outraged online, it takes much more to consistently promote a cause over a long period. For example, an old friend of mine has advocated for biodiversity and nature conversation for many decades, and he slowly achieved remarkable, compounding results that would not have been possible without one tiny step following the next. His path was often arduous and sometimes seemed inefficient, but it proved remarkably successful retrospectively.

Taking a longer view and acknowledging the actual progress made in people’s lives is the best way to avoid discouragement and fight weariness and cynicism.

Don’t vote for an interest or a cause

This one is tricky. Let me put it this way: If you think that governments are far too often paternalistic, inefficient, and serving particular interests, you may want to consider not voting for a party that promises to support your particular interest or your favorite cause. Don’t be part of the lobby and redistribution machine; instead, imagine the ideal state as a large-scale enabler and support those who will invest in infrastructure (if there are any, that is).

Well-functioning structural foundations of individual well-being (think, e.g., digitalization, public transport, education, parks and libraries...) serve every citizen, enhance equal opportunities, and improve the overall quality of life. Foundational infrastructures are quiet. You don’t notice them as long as they work, but they do make a real difference in people’s lives.

Don’t buy a solution. Solve the problem

I get it. Sometimes, the best thing you can do to solve a problem is to buy the solution. For instance, closing the silly rings on my Apple Watch motivates me to move more regularly than before I got the shiny gadget. Embarrassingly as it may sound, the commodity’s algorithms help me improve my overall physical activity. However, the same does not apply to, say, sleep-tracking apps. In many cases, they cause people to ruminate even more about their sleeping issues, thus making them worse rather than alleviating them.

Apps, gadgets, supplements—they all breathe the spirit of what Evgeny Morozov calls „solutionism,“ the questionable belief that every life problem can be solved by technology. But often, the best way to master difficult situations isn’t to spend money on yet another shiny product but to choose free, disarmingly simple, and entirely unspectacular solutions. Stuck? Go for a walk. Stressed? Exercise. Sad? Connect with real people and get involved in something bigger than yourself. Once you accept that there are no shortcuts and start doing the work, many things will fall into place.

Be humble

In his best articles, Freddie deBoer reflects on ethical living in an unethical world. He addresses unavoidable complicity without giving in to the trap of whataboutism. He advocates for

„the clarity and courage to say that you think the particular action you’re taking is probably the right one, but that you know your motives are impure, your thinking muddled, and your targets unclear.“

I appreciate Freddie’s position because it knows tragic moments and existential struggles. I also like it because he argues that acknowledging ambivalence and uncertainty „makes you more human and the claims more serious.“ More serious, not less. A louder activist isn’t a better, let alone more successful one. The revolution will not be televised. Yes, there is a time to ascertain your position and to speak out. For the most part, however, change will more likely come from inconspicuous refusal and quiet remarkability.