I hate to be the one to say it… but activism feels outdated.
While the rest of the world has evolved over the last 30 years, activism – at least the way I see it – has remained somewhat frozen in time.
Even its definition – “the policy or action of using vigorous campaigning to bring about political or social change” – makes it sound like something you have to endure, rather than enjoy.
Vigorous campaigning? Please. I’m already exhausted.
This idea of activism feels like a sacrifice. Dutiful. Maybe even grim.
When I think of traditional activism, I picture:
Yelling “SHAME!” at crowded protests with cardboard signs. Clipboard-wielding volunteers ambushing shoppers outside Coles. And email newsletters written in Comic Sans, that look like they were designed when dial-up internet was still a thing.
Current activism culture often feels like an endurance test disguised as social justice. You’re either fully committed to The Cause or you’re part of the problem.
There’s a quiet shame in not doing enough – not advocating, not donating, not speaking up enough. And so many burn out under the weight of it.
But let me be clear: I don’t think the problem is traditional activism itself.
Protests, petitions, and radical action have sparked monumental change throughout history. I still join protests. I still donate. I have deep respect for the people who devote their lives to this work, bringing genuine impact to causes that might otherwise go unchanged. Traditional activism is so fucking important, and I cannot state that enough.
The problem is: there doesn't seem to be a middle ground. A sustainable path to caring deeply without burning out. A version of activism that doesn’t turn into another source of guilt and inadequacy.
Lately, I can’t help but wonder: what if activism could feel… good? Even joyful?
What if activism didn’t have to look just one way?
I recently listened to Emily Ladau and Liz Plank discuss this exact question in their Substack live, "How to Be an Activist Without Crying in the Shower."
Emily, a disability advocate, perfectly captured the problem: "I have been to marches, rallies, and protests. I have the utmost respect for people who continue to do this, especially disabled people. But my disabled and chronically ill body is just not up to the task these days."
Traditional activism literally excludes her.
But instead of ‘giving up on caring,’ she’s found a way to redefine what activism looks like for her. At Disability Pride events in New York, for example, Emily found a kind of activism that felt good: art workshops, film screenings, food stalls, live music. Community-building that centres joy rather than guilt.
As she put it:
"That's where I thrive right now – finding joy in being with people who get it."
!!!!
Isn’t that what activism should feel like?
Liz only added to this sentiment: “The best forms of activism are where people are enlisted to do the things they enjoy doing.”
Activism doesn’t have to look like screaming with your fist in the air at protests if you have a disability or social anxiety. It doesn't have to mean monthly donations to charities you can't afford. It can – and should – feel like channelling your passions toward something meaningful.
Maybe that means:
Sharing your skills: Teaching art to kids after school or writing about causes you care about on Substack (even if only your mum reads it).
Building community: Hosting a book club, clothing swap, or movie night to screen a documentary you care about with friends.
Living your values: Switching to a super fund that doesn’t invest in fossil fuels or boycotting brands that don’t reflect your beliefs.
Showing up: Volunteering at an animal shelter or donating blood with a friend and grabbing a matcha afterwards.
Maybe it’s as simple as talking to your family over dinner about what matters to you.
None of these will single-handedly solve the world’s problems, I know. But they'll keep you engaged. And sustained engagement creates sustainable change. Consistency beats intensity (almost) every time.
Progressives are often disheartened because we think we need to tackle the entire system, carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders.
(…guilty).
But the world doesn't need you to save it single-handedly. It needs you to care consistently, authentically, sustainably.
If you're caught between:
"I care about the world… but I’m just one person,” and “I need to help… but nothing I do matters anyway,"
Then you’re standing exactly where real change begins.
When you realise you can contribute something – even if it’s something small, something aligned with who you already are – you’re far more likely to keep showing up.
Big change almost always starts with small, meaningful acts. With one person inspiring another, who inspires another.
You don't need to quit your job and live on the frontlines to bring about change. You don’t need to constantly sacrifice, dipping into your savings for every worthy cause. You don't need to feel guilty for wanting a life that brings you joy while also wanting to help others.
Caring should enhance your existence, not consume it.
Meet yourself where you are. Believe that is enough.
The most radical thing you can do?
Make it cool to care – by making it feel good to care.
honestly loved this one. the line about caring being sustainable and joyful? that’s the shift we need. activism shouldn’t feel like punishment—it should feel like community.
I'm entirely with you on the need for a rebrand! There so often seems to be some kind of arbitrary activism Olympics, as though it's a competition for who does more and goes harder, but it's all a race to burnout if we're not thoughtful about it.