Tag: Activism vs Slacktivism

• Let Them Speak, Even When They Have Nothing Valuable to Say

  February 18, 2019 11:09 am Comments Off on Let Them Speak, Even When They Have Nothing Valuable to Say

  “All three of the greatest Greek philosophers, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, regarded homosexual conduct as intrinsically shameful, immoral, and indeed depraved or depraving. That is to say, all three rejected the linchpin of modern ‘gay’ ideology and lifestyle…”
  This is how Oxford-based philosopher, John Finnis, argued solemnly in his 1994 essay, ‘Law, Morality, and ‘Sexual Orientation’’. You will be excused for rolling your eyes at the use of ‘gay lifestyle’ and the fact that ‘sexual orientation’ is put in scare quotes.
  But some people went further than that. Last month, more than 600 students and staff at Oxford signed a petition calling for Finnis to be removed from teaching duties. This episode involves more details than can be adequately addressed in this article: such as whether academic freedom covers retired faculty and whether it protects non-contractual teaching activities.
  It’s also difficult to make a meaningful contribution to the already cliché and polarised debate of free speech. What I find interesing is the fact that the two sides of this debate share a surprising and often-ignored common ground.
  Those who are critical of the Oxford students often argue that participants in conservation should learn from each other and that’s why deeply disagreeable speech should be tolerated. They sometimes also make the case that the best way to convince those who one disagrees with is through speech, and therefore suppressing speech is counterproductive.
  In a similar vein, proponents for imposing limits argue that some speech is so grotesque that there is no value to them. What both sides agree on is that free speech only covers something if engaging with it produces positive value. A speech can have value because either its contents contribute to the marketplace of ideas or that the engagement itself brings about the greatest value among all available alternatives. We can call this view the positive justification for free speech.
  The problem with this view is two-fold. One is epistemic. It’s often tricky to antecedently adjudicate whether a speech that one deeply disagrees with has any value. There is also the more significant principle problem. It can seem inappropriate to hold that speeches we do tolerate all have some positive value to them — think, for example, climate denial, white supremacy and religious fundamentalism. Unless one is willing to bite the bullet and accept that all of these should be criminalised, one is left concluding that there is somehow something positively good about engaging with these speeches.
  The positive justification for free speech can be inappropriate not only because it contends that all speech we do tolerate brings some positive good; it also draws an inappropriate and potentially untenable line between the speeches that we do tolerate and those that we do not. Most who endorse relatively extensive limits often only argue that a teacher who espouses racist views should be fired; few go as far as advocating that those who champion lower taxes or dismantling universal healthcare should be subject to the same treatment. But it is at least not clear that engaging with the latter policies will be more productive, given that they can — in some worldviews — do as much harm to those whom they affect.
  Again, there can be rejoinders; some of them might be satisfactory. So be it. My point is that the issues I raised above, at least on the face of it, give us some reason to consider an alternative justification for free speech.
  On this alternative view, the negative justification, free speech is not contingent on and cannot be wholly explained by the positive contribution it may make. People have free speech, to use an often-ambiguous term, because they have a right to it.  Of course, there is a further question as to what grounds such a right. To give an example, ‘contractualists’, as they are commonly known, argue that people have a right in general, and therefore a right to free speech, because this is something that cannot be reasonably rejected.
  Nevertheless, the distinct character of negative justification (as per Rawls) is that it is formal and not substantive. That is, the negative justification presents only formal criteria which identify what kinds of speech should be limited; and it is not substantive in the sense that such formal criteria, ideally, will not be reasonably rejected no matter what one’s substantive commitments are. To put it in a less abstract language, most people — progressives and conservatives — would agree that shouting ‘fire’ in a crowded theatre should not be protected by free speech.
  Moreover, this doesn’t mean that free speech should only be restricted in instances where people with diverse substantive commitments can readily agree on. For example, one can plausibly make a case that speech should be limited in cases where it impacts on its audiences in certain ways. There can then be further discussion on what sorts of impact justify imposing limits. The key is that such discussion should pay no regard to and remain neutral among a diverse range of substantive views.
  To be sure, there are difficult questions plaguing contractualists and by extension, those who advance a negative justification for free speech. The chief among these concerns is whether there exist things that people cannot reasonably object to, and what happens if we disagree about what can be reasonably objected to.
  Nonetheless, this view allows for the possibility that we can tolerate a wider range of speech without necessarily making any substantive judgements about them. Namely, it allows us to hold that some speeches should be protected even when we are hesitant to ascribe any positive value to them. This, I believe, is a desirable implication.
  As for the case of Finnis, I am inclined to think that his published views, albeit being deeply objectionable, should be protected by free speech. At the same time, I also tend to disagree with the insistence that students should necessarily engage with him or debate him. As Sophie Smith succinctly puts it in her London Review of Books commentary, “[w]hen I read my straight colleagues telling everyone else to give Finnis the ‘respect’ of engaging with his opinions, to ‘make arguments’ in response, I wonder how many times they have had to ‘make the argument’ for their happiness, for their home and their partner, for the life they’ve built with the people they love. At times, I’m not even sure what I am meant to be making the argument for…”
  As a gay man myself, I share Smith’s sentiment all the more profoundly. The thing is – at least this is what I hope to show – that we can let people speak even when they might have nothing valuable to say.

  Kida Lin

• Student Activism in Myanmar

  November 5, 2017 11:35 am Comments Off on Student Activism in Myanmar

  In the recent Winter break I was lucky enough to be apart of the Political Economy of Myanmar Study tour. After many hours spent picking the brains of students in Myanmar and long sweaty days spent digging through Yangon’s bookshops, the nation’s long history of student activism sparked my interest. This article aims to introduce some of this history, as homage to student activists that paved the way for change in the nation.
  After a long history of brutal authoritarian regimes, ethnic conflict and chronic underdevelopment, Myanmar has recently become the world’s latest poster child for democratic transitions. Democratic reforms begun in the nation in 2008 with constitutional recognition and were solidified in 2015, with the election of Aung San Suu Kyi’s (or Daw Su as she is formally referred to in Myanmar) National League for Democracy Government. The process has not been a smooth one; the military still constitutionally controls 25 per cent of the parliament and four key ministries, making practical legislative change for Daw Suu’s fresh government incredibly difficult. Furthermore, military-backed business conglomerates control swathes of Myanmar’s fledgling economy and ethnic conflict rages on. Although the situation in the nation is evidently a complex one, transitions towards a stable future have begun nonetheless. These transitions have not come easily; they have been hard fought for. The personification of this fight has been Daw Suu, a tireless global campaigner and domestic leader for change in her nation. However, Daw Suu has not been the only force for change within Myanmar, a vital role has also been played by student activists.
  Throughout Myanmar’s volatile postcolonial history, students have been at the forefront of democratic movements, attempts to topple the state or demands for drastic social, economic and political change. They have played a pivotal role in the nation’s initial transitions towards a democratic system and continue to be a powerful force of political dissent today.
  Students played a vital role during Myanmar’s brutal authoritarian regime from 1962 to 2011. Following a coup in 1962, Myanmar began a period of state-led brutality. The direction of this brutality towards students began in July of the same year, when students at Yangon University staged a protest over changes to their dormitory regulations. The regime responded by promptly destroying the historic university student union building (Hlaing 2007, pp.226). After oppression of both students and wider society as a whole continued to rage, participation in organised student movements drastically fell. Political apathy became a safe norm. However brutality could not stop student activists all together, they were instead forced underground into a network of clandestine political reading clubs. Reportedly up to 50 reading groups operated in university campuses in Mandalay and Yangon during the 70’s and 80’s (Hlaing 2007, pp.226). These reading groups would later play a vital role in mobilising students for perhaps the defining moment in the history of student activism in Myanmar, the 1988 uprisings (Hlaing 2007, pp.226).
  The student led revolutions of 1988 brought about the fall of Ne Win’s socialist government and saw Daw Su rise as a national hero. These uprisings came when the nation was at a boiling point. Two decades of economic mismanagement, poor social policy and brutal authoritarian rule meant the stage was set for a revolt. These revolts were both started and continuously led by students (Lintner 1990). Student uprisings began in March, sparked by small brawl between students from the Rangoon Institute of Technology and another group of young people. This incident at a tea house exposed serious police malpractice and corruption and students hurled themselves into reactionary revolt. Student protests soon gained momentum and eventually began calling for an end to authoritarian governance. As students took to the streets and called for change, they bravely faced reaction from the regime. This reaction was devastating. Reports of brutality against students during the uprisings include the infamous red-bridge massacre, where reportedly over one hundred students were killed on the banks of Yangon’s picturesque Inya lake, students being left in police vans to suffocate and the use gang rape of students as a suppression tool. Stories of the brutality faced by students was a rallying cry to many more people to join the fight against the dictatorship (Lintner 1990, 70-86). From humble beginnings, the 1988 uprisings eventually led to full-scale pro democracy protests, with involvement from reportedly over 1 million people in Yangon alone (Lintner 1990, pp.7). The protests placed enough pressure on the regime to force the resignation of Ne Win on September of 1988. Sadly, after the uprisings, the nation returned to another form of brutal authoritarian rule. However, under the leadership of organised student movements the 1988 uprisings were a vital step towards the Myanmar’s eventual democratic transition.
  Political transitions in Myanmar have many difficulties to overcome, however the nation has come a long way since its authoritarian regimes. This position would not have been reaching without student activists, who were at the forefront of Myanmar’s most important cries for democracy, in many cases giving their lives for the cause. As the nation continues its path towards reconciliation and stability, this history must not be forgotten.

  Mani Bovell

• The ANU Women’s Department: Then and Now

  September 4, 2017 5:32 pm Comments Off on The ANU Women’s Department: Then and Now

  Departments and autonomous collectives have played a vital role in activism at the ANU for decades. When the Women’s Department was first made an official part of ANUSA in 1993, Emma Partridge was the Women’s Officer – a role largely underfunded, misunderstood, and taken for granted. Although the Department has gone through a substantial amount of change since then, a few things remain the same.
  The formation of supportive communities
  Women’s spaces are an important way to meet other women on campus – to learn from each other, seek advice, and be in a safe and comfortable space. The Women’s Department was initially separate to a group called Women On Campus, who ran social events and took care of the Rapunzel Room, the women’s autonomous space. A series of notebooks were used to communicate with others who used the room. Entries in these books give insight into a close-knit community of students – from mundane statements (‘just popped in for a quiet spot on a busy day’) to the more serious, like advice about pregnancy. Other entries show just how much the Department has changed: a call-out for Women’s Officer described the role as not ‘too onerous’, and another entry detailed how many thought that it was a ‘nest of lesbians’.
  Women’s spaces and activism on campus in previous decades have been in-person spaces. Today, this work largely takes place in online communities – which is more readily accessible to a greater amount people and is more immediate. The Women’s Department online spaces are a popular way of finding solidarity, learning, promoting interesting things that women and non-binary people are doing on and around campus, getting recommendations, advice, and as a forum for advocacy at the ANU.
  Men complaining
  Another constant is the backlash from men on campus – one entry in a notebook from 1993 describes how a man, upset that women had an autonomous space on campus, broke into the Rapunzel Room. An entry by Lise states: ‘they don’t actually want [a room], they just got cut that we made the Women’s Room happen. Besides the rest of the world is men’s space (or at least male dominated). I would suggest the bar, any café, lecture theatre, and so on and ad nauseam if they are looking for a men’s room’. Calls for a Men’s Department continue today.
  Issues of safety on campus, sexual harassment and assault, and intersecting oppressions
  Most of the problems that women and non-binary students faced in the past are still impacting us today. An article from 2002 titled ‘Security on campus: still not high on the university agenda’ by Nicola Jackson details the failings of the ANU Security in protecting vulnerable students. Today, areas of campus and surrounding suburbs are still poorly lit, security measures like the UniSafe Bus remain ineffective, and the University continues to treat students who speak up like a nuisance or a legal liability. Sexual assault and violence in our community is still endemic, as the recent release of the AHRC Survey demonstrates.
  The marginalisation of the most vulnerable continues – 2002 articles ‘Racists hiding behind feminism’ by Allison Dellit and ‘Trans women in NOWSA: The case for inclusion’ by Julie Peters indicate that the Women’s Department has never been immune to the white and cis-centric feminism that is prominent in mainstream women’s spaces. We have made progress – the creation of the Women of Colour Collective has been imperative in the success of the current Department, and we are currently working on the inclusion and celebration of trans, intersex and gender-diverse people in the Department. But we still have a long way to go.
  As long as there are groups who face oppression, there will be a need for a space in which a voice can be nurtured and heard. The ANU Women’s Department continues to provide this voice for those who are marginalised – for those who are spoken over, for those who feel like they can’t speak out at all. We will continue to advocate for the interests of women and non-binary people on campus and provide a safe and supportive community for them at the ANU.
  Laura Perkov is the 2018 ANUSA Women’s Officer.

  Laura Perkov

• Tips for a Good Handover

  August 28, 2017 9:05 pm Comments Off on Tips for a Good Handover

  The biggest barrier to a decent handover is a 100 per cent tragic, and (often inevitable) burnout.
   
  It is hard to aim for sustainability when student advocate positions within which we operate are so inherently unsustainable. So, step zero: try not to burnout, so that you have the energy to do a handover.
   

  Individualise – the person comes first.

  There has to be a handover relationship where you trust and share with each other useful info in a way that works for you both. Have a conversation about how to navigate the whole process of handover. Do informal coffee chats if that works for you, or a more structured timeline over weeks if written plans make more sense.
   
  The person receiving the handover should take more of an active role here even though they are there to soak up all the outgoing human’s wisdoms. But, actually, the outgoing person probably would really appreciate some pointers on how to get certain things through, or what the most pressing worries/confusions/lack of information are. There’s also a power imbalance here where the new person is very reliant on the outgoing person for everything – so definitely address that and make space for the new person to shape the whole process.
   

  Start immediately.

  Tell the person you’re handing over to start compiling their handover straight away – even better – tell them to remember what factors went into their decision to commit to the position so that they can assist others in navigating the pre-commitment-to-role considerations (which are arguably the most important part of the whole stupol thing).
  As you settle into a new role, it’s really hard to remember what used to be confusing or hard to navigate. Revisit journals or friends who you’ve talked to earlier in the year if that helps to jog your memory about things that you forgot to document as you went along.
   

  Decide what should be documented (and document it!) and what you need to pass on in conversational/other forms (you can be creative here).

  You will need to formalise some records: these are things like account information/log ins, constitutions/other governance documents, financial records, forms and processes. Don’t worry if there are gaps – just be clear about where they exist so the next person can fill them in.
  Other things are more sensitive like the dynamics of working relationships, hacks, tricks and tactics that you’d rather not formalise/record in writing, and generally more personal things like navigating personal relationships, self-care and your own expectations/feelings about the role. These are maybe better delivered in person, or in other more creative forms. I’ll never forget the little care package that I received with a small candle, a journal and a pair of happy socks –  they have gotten me through lots of hard times.
   

  Set healthy boundaries.

  Boundaries are key to any good relationship – you don’t want the new person to defer to you or be constantly coming back to you, but also you want them to feel comfortable to reach out for when they genuinely need assistance and advice. Make sure you are clear about what aspects you are completely giving over – and when, and what doors are still open for chats, support and advice.
   

  Keep most things – especially if you didn’t engage with it

  The work existed before you realised it was going on, and the work will continue after you retire from stupol – the work is most important, so try to keep good records of what you found useful (and why) and pass on the things that you didn’t find super helpful. You want to use your discretion in narrowing down things for the person you are handing over to, but also remember that people can have different priorities and ways of approaching the role, and that your organisation can experience a lot of change that might make some information more useful some years than others. Pass on the backlogged ideas that you didn’t get to see through in your term, try to prune and neaten some of the historical records of the organisation and try to add things so that you are leaving the organisation with more than when you arrived.

  Woroni Editor