“Animal Rights Shit”: is activism over?
In Australia, we regularly add the word “shit” to sentences without a second thought. “Shit” encompasses so many different things, from what we’re doing, thinking, feeling, as well as the physical stuff around us. “Shit” is a dismissive generalisation that is often uttered with a a wave of the hand, covering everything from the minutae of life to more serious concepts. Here, we don’t refer to a post-pandemic world; we say “when all this *gestures* shit is over.”
This is one of the reasons why when a self-appointed paid influencer for the animal rights movement referred to the work and labour of activism as “animal rights shit” the utterance did not elicit half so much indignation as that person seeking further financial support on an additional social media platform did.
But it should have.
It highlighted an attitude towards the work of animal liberationists worldwide that is dismissive and generalised. Because a “leader" using a verbal wave of the hand to that labour undertaken in pursuit of justice for other animals was not simply dismissive; it was arrogant. And it highlights the issues inherent within an animal rights community that centers individual activists and holds them on a pedestal, to the extent that a clear hierarchy is not only created but viciously defended.
If one is to place themselves as a high profile voice within a movement, it is not too much to expect that one considers the language we use and the attitude we portray to the broader community, both within and outside of the movement. Unfortunately activist culture has become a series of carefully crafted online identities promoting a brand instead of the active pursuit of justice.
But is influencer culture entirely to blame for this shift in the activist identity? Or is it a progression from the isolationist expressions of activism we have developed over the years?
Consider this excerpt from Give Up Activism by Andrew X, a critique of the activist identity written in 2009:
By ‘an activist mentality’ what I mean is that people think of themselves primarily as activists and as belonging to some wider community of activists. The activist identifies with what they do and thinks of it as their role in life, like a job or career. In the same way some people will identify with their job as a doctor or a teacher, and instead of it being something they just happen to be doing, it becomes an essential part of their self-image.
The activist is a specialist or an expert in social change. To think of yourself as being an activist means to think of yourself as being somehow privileged or more advanced than others in your appreciation of the need for social change, in the knowledge of how to achieve it and as leading or being in the forefront of the practical struggle to create this change.
Activism, like all expert roles, has its basis in the division of labour — it is a specialised separate task. The division of labour is the foundation of class society, the fundamental division being that between mental and manual labour. The division of labour operates, for example, in medicine or education — instead of healing and bringing up kids being common knowledge and tasks that everyone has a hand in, this knowledge becomes the specialised property of doctors and teachers — experts that we must rely on to do these things for us. Experts jealously guard and mystify the skills they have. This keeps people separated and disempowered and reinforces hierarchical class society.
A division of labour implies that one person takes on a role on behalf of many others who relinquish this responsibility. A separation of tasks means that other people will grow your food and make your clothes and supply your electricity while you get on with achieving social change. The activist, being an expert in social change, assumes that other people aren’t doing anything to change their lives and so feels a duty or a responsibility to do it on their behalf. Activists think they are compensating for the lack of activity by others. Defining ourselves as activists means defining our actions as the ones which will bring about social change, thus disregarding the activity of thousands upon thousands of other non-activists. Activism is based on this misconception that it is only activists who do social change — whereas of course class struggle is happening all the time.
As activists we continually exhort others to “do something” and “become an activist”, channeling people into branded chapters of groups in which a clear hierarchy is present, then relegating them to the role of a sign holder until they can be “trusted”. We discourage independent action, holding brands as being the most effective form of activism; producing endless merchandise whilst preaching a message targeting consumerism. Big names are invited to attend actions they don’t organise, protests they don’t help fund, to guarantee maximum attendance that invariably peters out. The investigator remain nameless and faceless, risking psychological and physical harm or the deprivation of their liberty; the activist who broadcasts this footage gains fame and profit. And that’s just within the movement.
We hold ourselves apart from broader society, viewing those who do not engage in activism that is broadcast online (or at all) as inert and inferior. Then there are the paid influencer activists; others are expected to work, generate income and donate to the activist to “support their work.” Still more must make our clothes, produce our food, power our homes, manufacture the devices we create and disseminate content from, because of a perceived “natural order.” There are those who labour, and there are those who “do”. And whilst claiming we’re “sticking it to the man” we in fact create a class division that inhibits the reach of our actions.
Is it any wonder then that the “leaders” of the movement have become so dismissive of those beneath them as to regard advocating for other animals as “animal rights shit”? To ignore the numerous voices calling out sexual predators, racism, homophobia, classism and ableism (even speciesism!) in the movement and only addressing “toxic AR culture” when their actions are the ones being critiqued? It’s all apolitical until you’re the one being discussed; then suddenly the movement has a “sickness” that needs to be addressed.
Is activism over? I’m not sure. Certainly all this *gestures* shit (aka the pandemic) has shutdown the more mainstream expressions of activism, such as vigils or outreach. Perhaps that’s why we’re seeing such a ruckus currently; the influencer activists have relied upon those forms of activism for so long they are struggling to remain relevant but have no means to diversify and simultaneously maintain their status.
But what I am sure of is now is the time for the activist identity to die; the isolationist attitudes, the hoarding of knowledge, resources and opportunity, the hierarchies, and the fame game. It’s time to let go of “animal rights shit” and instead pursue justice on a genuinely grassroots level.
Because if there is one thing that is abundantly clear; what we’re currently doing is not working and is in fact counter-intuitive. And unless we adapt beyond where we are now, then yes, activism is over.
