Dartmouth students, unlike other people in my life, seem to have a particular impatience with too much talk, while the institution itself organizes a discussion committee at the first sign of trouble. I hear “don’t just talk about it — do something” so often on this campus that the phrase has begun to sound like some athletic brand’s motto. Though I agree that conceptualizing issues out of reality is dangerous, talking through complex problems is an important and necessary step toward progress.
Shonda Rhimes ’91, in her 2014 Commencement address, touched on similar issues regarding the use of social networks as a vehicle for change and solidarity. She said, “A hashtag is not helping. #YesAllWomen #TakeBacktheNight... A hashtag does not change anything. It’s a hashtag,” suggesting that we should volunteer rather than tweet.
But not only are her remarks about #YesAllWomen demonstrably false — the hashtag did much to raise awareness to the seldom-discussed microagressions women face daily — Rhimes and many others also seem to ignore the efficacy of words themselves. Indeed, developed thought is a requisite precursor to thoughtful action.
You tweet some form of solidarity, slap a trending hashtag on it and call it a day — all the while feeling like you’ve somehow done your part to help some remote situation. However, there are certain (almost inevitable) benefits intrinsic to voicing support for a cause that many, even the posters themselves, overlook.
Though this cannot be said of everyone who posts about the latest news, oftentimes engaging with an issue can cause casual observers to become versed in the subject. First they read more articles and critiques, they talk to their friends and family about what they just supported and why.
When I post about something, people usually bring it up with me in conversation. Posting opens a dialogue that would have otherwise been closed, and publicly voicing support for something can bring challenges that further educate both yourself and others.
Reading, vocally supporting, arguing — this leads to the “actual” involvement people ask for, and we shouldn’t fault others for being on the first step of the journey rather than the last.
Perhaps what we should really question are the tactics used by large corporations that engage in the same trade-off but result in none of the positive externalities. For instance, Toms raises the price of their mediocre product, with the guarantee that a purchase will help the world (in this case, by providing a pair of shoes to a child “in need”). In this way, a purchase functions as a donation, freeing you to stop worrying about the money you should donate or the price of the product you just purchased. Alleviating consumer guilt halts the possibility of funneling that guilt into “productive” forms of charity, which usually entail learning about some aspect of the disadvantages of others (something buying shoes just doesn’t do). Why is it that buying into a fashion trend is so much more acceptable than buying into a social one?
Let’s also not forget that we, as students studying at a liberal arts institution, have a particular connection with what many deem to be “inaction.” One of my classes with government professor Russell Muirhead, “Political Speech,” discussed the governing principles behind a liberal arts education. These principles do not uphold the idea that doing something is inherently better than thinking something. For our short time at college, we are given a space to rest in somber deliberation and consider what exactly we should be doing before we spend the rest of our lives doing it. And that entails thinking, which is not synonymous with passivity.
