Activism has masked itself — literally and figuratively. In recent years, whether hiding behind anonymous social media accounts or donning masks in the streets, protestors have often traded visibility for anonymity. Frankly, this shift has negatively impacted these movements. The decision to obscure your identity risks eliminating the personal connection and accountability that make protests powerful. Look at what has happened at Cornell this past year. In 2024, the campus has been the battleground of two significant movements — the Pro-Palestinian encampment in the spring and the United Auto Workers in the fall. Both fought for concessions from the same Cornell administration but chose vastly different strategies regarding visibility; the two had very different outcomes.
The UAW chose to be seen. They stood unmasked and proud on busy roads, in front of campus buildings, demanding fair wages and better working conditions. Walking by them, you couldn’t miss the faces — these were real people, with families and decades of service to Cornell. Smiles that appeared after every car honk or cheer reinforced the individual impact of their demands, making it harder for passersby to ignore their cause. They weren’t some abstract movement — you could see that they were your neighbors, coworkers and community.
This idea is not new. Personability has always been crucial for effective activism. We love to consolidate entire movements into the faces of a few relatable individuals. Rosa Parks became a face of the Civil Rights Movement not because she was the first to protest bus segregation (she was far from it), but because her image connected with people on a deep, human level. Park’s story helped crystallize the movement’s broader struggle into something personal; people felt like they knew her. Take Malala Yousafzai, who became the global symbol for girls’ education after being shot by the Taliban. Her face is now plastered all over books and posters. While there is not a singular notable individual in either of these protests, these examples illustrate a larger point: the visibility of individuals often gives movements a relatable, human face, which can foster support.
This is why I was so surprised to see the wave of encampments that hit college campuses removing this personal element, choosing to obscure their identity with masks. Students at Cornell protested and encamped with masks, while requesting the University to divest from Israel and establish a Palestinian studies department. Whether the decision was to protect their identities from University disciplinary action, shield themselves from consequences for crimes or hateful actions, engage in a symbolic act of collective solidarity or even respond to the new challenges of doxxing, their masking ultimately still weakened their cause.
Here is the thing: protest is supposed to involve risk. History is filled with examples of protestors who jeopardized much more than either of the recent campus movements did, yet stood openly and proudly for their beliefs. Consider the various famous protests of the Civil Rights Movement or Gandhi’s Salt March, where thousands marched openly in the face of real threats of imprisonment and violence. More recently, the thousands of Belarusians who openly protested against what they saw as a fraudulent election, knowing they may be beaten, arrested and imprisoned. They stood uncovered. They did not hide behind anonymity; they understood that to spark real change, they had to stand as visible, accountable figures. Why? Because protest is inherently a courageous act.
Additionally, the decision of protestors to mask themselves lost the personal relatability that has been essential for building empathy and public support. As I noted above, relatability – through showing their faces — has benefitted the UAW and many major social movements. It is difficult to relate to individuals, or even think of them as fellow students, when you can’t even see their faces.
Lastly, face coverings can carry a stigma. Consider who are associated with wearing masks: criminals, rioters, and terrorists – individuals who want to conceal their identities while committing acts that defy law and order. Whether the pro-Palestinian protesters were peaceful or not, their decision to remain masked inevitably invoked the perception there was something to hide, damaging their legitimacy. And when the campus was defaced with anti-Israel graffiti, or more broadly, when encampments at other schools were linked to acts of anti-seminism, vandalism and violence, these negative associations intensified.
In the end, the outcomes of the two movements that took place on campus this year were very different. The UAW strike was a success, reaching a historic agreement with the University ceding wage increases after 15 days of striking. But the divestment encampment ended without a formal agreement regarding its demands — the protestors seemingly gave up. While we cannot determine if masks affected these outcomes, they certainly influenced how I — and likely many others — perceived them.
Protestors should think carefully about how anonymity may impact their movement. The next time you want to advocate for something you believe in, remove your mask and connect with the humanity behind the movement, not just the message.
Seth Berman is a third-year student in the College of Arts & Sciences. His column, The Other Side, takes on controversial issues both on the Cornell campus and in broader societal contexts, offering a unique perspective on debates that challenge conventional thinking. He can be reached at [email protected].
The Cornell Daily Sun is interested in publishing a broad and diverse set of content from the Cornell and greater Ithaca community. We want to hear what you have to say about this topic or any of our pieces. Here are some guidelines on how to submit. And here’s our email: [email protected].