I’m going to be brutally honest here: I haven’t changed my Facebook profile picture to “support France and the people of Paris” and I have no intentions of doing so.
Instead, when I logged into Facebook on Saturday night after a few days of being away and I was met with a newsfeed of 90% red, white, and blue-filtered profile pictures, I was left feeling vaguely uncomfortable. At the time I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why it didn’t sit well with me, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m uncertain whether Facebook is making it easier for users to show support or simply stunting a complex conversation around terrorism. I understand that the tricolour filters are meant to be touching gesture of unity, but surely there are more meaningful ways of showing solidarity.
Social media is a powerful medium that has become a crucial grounds for social change— consider how #BlackLivesMatter compares to the civil rights movement of
the 1960s. There are countless advantages to using the Internet as a platform to raise awareness; its outreach and efficiency are unrivalled by anything that was around half a century ago. But what about as a place for mourning? For a response to tragedy? I can’t help but feel like the mess of hashtags and images and filters is largely well-intentioned but ultimately pretty superficial.
Unlike #BlackLivesMatter or #Kony2012, however, #PrayforParis isn’t gearing towards a specific call to action. Just as with Facebook’s rainbow profile picture filters earlier this year in support of marriage equality in the US, it’s a gesture meant to spread support and unity. Despite this, it’s still textbook “slacktivism”. Simply pressing a button to put a filter on your profile picture is an action (or more accurately, an inaction) that flattens a profound and complex issue to the likes of a meme.
I want to make it explicitly clear that my goal here is not to undermine the tragedy of the recent attacks in Paris. I’m not doubting that a single person who changed their profile picture, too, was shocked and horrified by the events this past weekend, and so it’s likely there wasn’t much hesitation when they logged into Facebook and were presented with such an easy and seemingly empathic response. My issue with this reaction, however, is that it culminates in a display of self-indulgent slacktivism. It’s all too easy to feel bad, press a button to apply a filter, and convert empathy to a sort of smarmery without giving a second thought to the real-world context of the issue. Why is our response to 130 deaths in Paris an international flurry of hashtags and filters, and over 40 equally tragic and violent deaths in Beirut on the same day essentially disregard?
Maybe that’s something we should take a minute to think about.
Sources for feature image and banner image
Hi Katja,
I think public discourse is best expressed when people are able to disagree with others’ viewpoints, and talk about their own. So let’s talk about slacktivism.
I think you’re completely right, first of all, in saying that slacktivism is a culture which we should never condone. It ignores the issues that plague the world, and it builds an attitude which tells people that as long as they show their support for something, they’ve done something meaningfully and tangibly beneficial for those impacted. But that is the extent to which I agree with you.
Let’s be clear, then: the Paris attacks were atrocious, malicious, and unbelievably saddening. And people all around the world were touched by them, not just those in Paris. We saw those sorts of reactions happen real-time on things like social media, or print media, from normal people to world leaders. And the response from people on social media was largely to do things such as change their Facebook profile pictures and use #PrayforParis.
Why, then, do we think these are harmful? Because, like you said, people believe that these things aren’t doing anything to help the people of Paris in meaningful ways.
But they are, because every blue, white, and red profile picture, every twitter hashtag and post about these attacks raises the attention of people all over the world. It tells the people of Paris that the world stands with them, it tells world leaders that we, as a collective human race, share in the pain of the attacks, and, most importantly, it tells terrorists and extremists that we will not bow down to threats, that we will not cower in fear and terror, that we will not change our lives to accommodate their dreams.
And that response has been significant. Within days Canada and the US, along with nations of every region, religion, and ethnicity pledge their support for the French. When we send the message that millions and millions of people will share in the movement to express their love for the people of France, we may, just maybe, help them cope.
What, then, is the alternative? Because activism, both political and social, is proven to be largely successful. Can we protest, or write letters, or donate money?
Who are we protesting against? Our own governments? Of course not. We protest against terrorism and we already do that when we send a message through social movements.
Can we write letters? For what purpose? To change our foreign policy to help France? Trudeau has already pledged Canadian support.
Can we, finally, donate money? Why? The shootings were a tragedy, but the rebuilding that needs to be done is on an emotional level, not an economic one. We donate money for earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes. The people of France do not need money pouring in, they need emotional support at times like this.
So when you call these sorts of things superficial, I must disagree. When you go on Facebook and see those small French flags, or when you go on Twitter and see countless mentions of Paris, all those things are much more than superficial. They show that we care, and that is most important.
And that is good, insofar as the world should be concerned. But what about Beirut, or the bombed Russian plane, or the numberous other attacks that have occurred in recent weeks? I don’t think the lack of awareness of those is necessarily the fault of Facebook or Twitter. It is the fault of an uninformed public; this has always been a prevalent issue, and hopefully will not be in the future. But the response in social media has had some benefits: we have seen rigiorous debate about the questions of refugees, of security vs safety, of political activism. And I have one thing to say here: let us remember that the people who committed the attacks in Paris are the same ones the refugees are fleeing from.
We can remember that a bit easier when the average person is reminded of it by the tricolor, because the alternative is sweeping away these issues while a small minority attempt to take the tangible actions you propose.
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