Performative activism is detrimental

Kaylene Lin

Eight minutes and 46 seconds can change a person’s life.

Eight minutes and 46 seconds can also end someone’s life.

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a Black man, was killed in an act of police brutality.

He was arrested by four police officers, Derek Chauvin, J. Alexander Kueng, Thomas Lane, and Tou Thao, outside of a convenience store for alleged use of a counterfeit $20 bill. Bystanders watched as Floyd was handcuffed, told to lay on the ground, and pinned under Chauvin’s knee.

Nearly nine minutes later, Floyd died.

His death impacted millions of people as protests sprung up around the world. And for the two months following his death, media outlets, social media pages, and streets were flooded with people demanding change. So, where did that go?

Performative activism, by definition, is ingenuine support of a movement or issue used to increase one’s social standing. In other words, performative activists only support a cause when it is convenient for them or benefits their reputation.

For example, in May and June of 2020, many fast-food chains took to social media to announce their solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. “When it comes to people’s lives, there’s only one way to have it. Without discrimination,” Burger King said on Twitter just as Wendy’s posted that “its voice would be nothing without Black culture.”

Yet, as columnist Tejal Rao points out in an article for the New York Times, their promise for change often ended after the “post” button.

“It seemed that, to most food companies, the national protests against police brutality and racism were a chance to both express solidarity and build their brands,” Rao said.

Long intertwined with movements like Fight for $15, most fast food companies run on under-paying jobs. Consequently, Black workers who come from disenfranchised communities often over-represent the staff.

So when McDonald’s doesn’t pay for sick leave or Wendy’s refuses to join the Fair Food Program, it disproportionately impacts the Black community. Their solidarity towards the Black Lives Matter movement is expressed publicly but not extended towards their own workplace environments.

Similarly, in response to the recent Asian hate crimes that have occurred, some have taken to social media to post a yellow square. Like the black squares posted on Instagram last year, the yellow squares are meant to show solidarity and “blackout” social media feeds.

But these tactics allow people to simply post, show their follows that they “care,” and then forget about it the next day. And at the root of it, that is why performative activism is harmful.

It’s important to remember that while some people may have the privilege of disregarding issues until it is convenient for them, other people have to live with those issues every day. They can’t pick and choose when to care about police brutality or institutionalized racism when those issues are ingrained in their lives.

By using the Black Lives Matter protests from last year as an opportunity to save face, the movement becomes diluted and palatable. The power is taken away from those fighting for social justice.

So now, almost a year after Floyd’s death, understanding the harmful effects of performative activism is more crucial than ever. After all, eight minutes and 46 seconds can end a person’s life. But it should also provoke a lifetime of change.