Last week, my friend introduced me to slacktivism, “the practice of conspicuously showing support for a cause (as by posting on social media or hanging a flag or sign) without taking any real steps to effect change.” Slacktivism — as per its common definition — is easily seen and acknowledged on campus: taking photos with the United Auto Workers picket sign without striking or picketing with them; reposting Instagram posts on the death toll in Gaza without writing to local government officials on the need for pro-Palestine support within the government; and even the cynical conversations that disparage the state of society without the people taking a single ounce of action.
However, the word slacktivism and similar terms like performative activism are misleading. In the case of performative activism, the term “performative” is used to define action that is fake, inauthentic and trivial. Yet, part of activism is to be performed: carried out and presented to an audience. This resonates with the definition of performative as outlined by John Langshaw Austin, British philosopher of language. He observes that certain statements, such as the phrase “I do” during a wedding ceremony, do more than convey information — they enact an event, such as the formalization of a marriage and the subsequent roles of husband and wife.
As such, performative activism and many other buzzwords require action. The way they are used, then, highlights a broader issue of the waning understanding of the purpose of activism, and, more specifically, the purpose of protest. On campus, protests should not only gain an audience, but also make reasonable gains.
The purpose of protest is to enact change. If a protest cannot directly enact change, it should clearly outline reasonable demands for the movement and methods to enact them. However, recently, protests on campus have not enacted any change. Many protests organized by the Coalition for Mutual Liberation and Cornellians for Israel have been, put bluntly, pointless.
For instance, Cornellians for Israel organized poster stands of people taken hostage by Hamas on Oct. 7. While the poster stands were intended to honor the victims of the terrible attack, this attempt was highly farcical. By Oct. 12, these posters were in the trash outside of Olin Library. It is certainly not honoring to end up as a face on a poster in a trashcan. As a result, while setting up these poster stands was action, its impact was not activism.
CML has more nuance to its protests. For instance, CML’s disruption of the career fair at the Statler Hotel was crucial: Boeing should not be recruiting on Cornell’s campus when it supplies weapons the Israeli military. Companies that prioritize profit over morality — and thus contribute to the genocide in Gaza — should not represent the goals of the University and be welcomed on campus. While Cornell’s investments in military manufacturers cannot be easily prevented, the entrance of students into their machine can be. The purpose of this protest was clear: “it was a targeted disruption aimed at shutting down a Boeing and L3Harris recruitment event to pressure the administration into cutting ties with these companies,” as I wrote in my previous column.
On the other hand, when CML protesters marched from Ho Plaza into Klarman Hall chanting “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free,” their protest was disruptive but created no change on campus. Palestine is consistently on our minds — it is in the news, on social media and on posters on campus. We do not need a protest in Klarman Hall to remind us that the genocide in Gaza is ongoing. We need reasonable outlines of what will happen next: how the University can reasonably enact change. While it is hard to see CML’s protests at Cornell having an effect globally (and that is what we truly need), CML should at least fight for administrative action on campus.
Without purpose, protest becomes a spectacle. As Interim Provost John Siliciano provokingly said, “this is, in some sense, theater.” Theater, defined as a stage for viewing, is sometimes the purpose of protest: sometimes an issue simply needs views and attention. But protest needs to go past that: what is its purpose past attention? What reasonable change can happen?
For instance, the primary demand of CML to the University is divestment. However, divestment — as outlined by former President Pollack — is impossible. Pollack’s reasons include: one, divestment is a decision made by the Board of Trustees; two, Cornell’s endowment consists of gifts to the university that are invested to generate money; three, the call for divestment ignores companies that have concerning involvement in other countries; and four, the divestments called for risk violating New York state’s Executive Order 157, which prohibits investment activity intended to penalize Israel. Besides Pollack’s listed reasons, the Board of Trustees would never vote for divestment: it is a fruitless fight, no matter the level of intimidation the Board faces. CML needs to move on to different — and this time reasonable — demands to the University.
With Cornell suspending CML activists for protest, this fight for reasonable demands is more essential than ever. While it is extraordinarily brave for protesters to put their education on the line for what they believe in, these students need to ensure that the type of protests they are participating in create enough change — or at least pave the way for change — to be worth the risk of suspension. In other words, their suspension should be for something more than ideals.
So, this is not a cry against protest: simply a plea for more productive protest. Your disruption should make a difference. And I hope that small difference will be one step towards Palestinian liberation.
Ilana Livshits is a second year student in the College of Arts & Sciences. Her fortnightly column Live Laugh Livshits focuses on politics, social issues and culture at Cornell. She can be reached at [email protected].
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