In the vivacious fiesta called Philippine politics, the scene is never complete without a sprinkling of activists here and there, mobilizing for or against a particular cause. The nightly news is, in fact, often replete with correspondents reporting live from demonstration sites and protest actions. Indeed, there seems to be enough rallies for everyone.
In the greater commune of Loyola Heights though, the streets are quiet and empty; the banners are nowhere to be found.
Curiously enough, it’s not the same story in the Atenean’s other world, that other one teeming with banners (in just a hundred and forty characters, mind you!) and collective thumbs-upping. In this other world, Ateneans stand up for a cause without even having to leave their armchairs.
Welcome to the streets of Facebook and Twitter, where ‘activism’ has found a new home.
Screens over streets
The internet cradles millions of websites dedicated to different movements and efforts. Social networking sites, true to this trend, have also evolved into more than just avenues for making friends. Today, Facebook pages get ‘liked’ and Twitter posts get ‘retweeted’—all for the expression of support (or distaste) for a particular cause.
Such a boom has been moralized with the growth of ‘slacktivism,’ a term now used to refer the phenomena where individuals support advocacies only through ‘online’ involvement or some other hassle-free way, instead of genuine, impactful action. Slacktivists are sometimes referred to as ‘armchair revolutionaries.’
The word ‘slacktivism’ first came into use during the mid-‘90s, but it had a different meaning then; it used to refer to individual activism that did not translate to wide-scale protests. The term achieved popularity early in the new millennium, and at that time, the word already took its present meaning.
Today, online slacktivism can be seen in different forms. Common ones include online petitions, blogs, internet memes, Facebook pages, and Twitter hashtags.
The slacktivism among today’s Ateneans is a far cry from the era of pre-Martial Law brazenness. Loyola Heights then was host to totally different scenes; some Ateneans would initiate student walk-outs to get their hands dirty in response to social issues.
Mouse-clicking and beyond
While slacktivism has gained notoriety for its mostly online manifestations, slacktivist practices actually persist beyond cyberspace. Indeed, some ‘real-life’ efforts today can be considered slacktivist in essence.
“Slacktivism, I think, is a label that was given to us by the older generations of activists,” Leiron Martija, The Assembly’s Vice President for the Office of Research and Advocacy, points out. “It’s mainly a reaction from a generation that was used to doing things [a different way].”
Bian Villanueva, Secretary-General of the newly formed Christian Union for Socialist and Democratic Advancement, says that slacktivism is a loaded term. “Sometimes people use it to describe these armchair revolutionaries, but then I think it can also be used to describe people who act without caring to think about what they’re [doing].”
Instant involvement
The Ateneo has a rich history of impactful activism, but majority of Ateneans today seem to have lost regard for this heritage.
“Many Ateneans cannot identify with collective issues,” Psychology Lecturer Nico Canoy says in Filipino, explaining why activism has lost its vogue in campus.
Bian Villanueva agrees. “The Ateneo is a special university. A lot of people—we have to admit—are really well-off; they’re very comfortable,” he says. “And so it’s really difficult to begin to understand the problems that people in the streets face.”
However, Canoy explains, “Cognition, in relation to behavior, is not causal.” He says that feeling for a particular cause or advocacy does not automatically result in action.
Nevertheless, one would expect that the Ateneo’s efforts to make itself more socially relevant—through its emphasis on nation-building and passionate service—would inspire Ateneans to do more than ‘like’ Facebook pages. For Martija, though, that’s just the way it is today.
“There’s no one to blame for that. I think it’s a sign of the times,” he says. “But I’m not saying there’s nothing that can be done about it.”
Slactivists go offline
There have actually been tangible and visible efforts in campus recently towards the advancement of particular advocacies. The most notable example would be the failed drive for a College Fair, an effort that was rejected three times by the Sanggunian Central Board.
This is not to say, however, that the said effort was particularly enlightened; analysis would reveal that the rejected College Fair proposal had thriven on decidedly slacktivist tendencies. This is a sentiment that Martija and Bian Villanueva share.
Martija was against the proposed fair for a number of reasons. He doubted its logistical feasibility, and decried the seeming “special treatment” the proposal got from the Sanggunian. However, his main gripe was with the fair’s formulation in the proposal.
“It started off as a College Fair [proposal],” Martija says, “and then they had to sort of sculpt the project so that it could fit through the red tape.” He is referring to the eventual inclusion of an ‘advocacies’ component to the fair, which was allegedly done to boost the project’s chance of getting official Sanggunian and school support.
Martija dismisses this sculpturing with distaste. “When they [appeal to] social responsibility, when they say ‘We’re doing this for the scholarship fund,’” Martija says, “[that is] really just an afterthought.”
Martija adds that the scholarship fund drive the fair proposal was packaged with expresses vanity on the part of Ateneans. “[It’s] as if the only way Ateneans can think of to help the world is [by creating] more Ateneans.”
A ‘slacktivist’ project
Indeed, parallelisms can be seen between the rejected College Fair and the derided kind of ‘advocacy’ prevalent on the internet. A point of contention during the proposal deliberations was the accommodation of advocacy groups (Gawad Kalinga, Pathways to Higher Education, and the Ateneo Center for Education Development) during the two-day event.
“I found the proposal of the [College Fair] Task Force problematic,” Bian Villanueva says. He thinks the proposal has attached cosmetics to it to make it ‘more Atenean.’
“The fact that they link advocacies to the fair, [through] an advocacy lane where they have three [NGO booths] in the middle of a car show, an octopus ride—it’s a disservice to the advocacies,” he says.
Bian Villanueva’s claim that the advocacies were just added cosmetics to the fair mirrors online slacktivism: a ‘feel-good’ component is attached to an activity as a distraction from the fact that little to no impact is actually being made.
Not entirely bad
Bian Villanueva, however, still says that it’s hard to answer whether he is for or against slacktivism.
“There are things that you believe in and that you read [about] on the internet,” he says, acknowledging the internet’s potential for raising awareness. “You read [about] them constantly, and [you] stick to that. I think that’s relevance to me.”
Martija also acknowledges this good. “I do recognize the aspect of slacktivism involving digesting information and being aware [as]… important in being an activist.”
Beyond that, however, he gives no more credence to the movement. “I don’t think you can be a responsible activist and support slacktivism,” he says firmly.
Friends, not enemies
Victor Villanueva, on the other hand, provides an alternative view on online slacktivism. A law student from the University of Santo Tomas, he is a noted blogger (victorvillanueva.net) and spirited activist. For him, there can be a compromise between activism and slacktivism.
“[Slacktivism and activism] complement each other. For me, [slacktivism is] very effective in mobilizing the youth,” he says.
He opines that slacktivism is not actually separate from activism, nor is it an evolution or transformation of it. “I am for slacktivism in its forms like internet campaigns,” he says, arguing that an activist must explore all the possible options to promote his or her advocacy.
He still asserts, however, that “[slacktivism] is only a supplement or compliment to higher forms of activism.”
The comfort of the internet
Victor Villanueva thinks that it is comfortable to be both an activist and online advocate in the modern context. He and his companions from Kabataan Party-list are currently rallying against the budget cuts on state colleges and universities, and he recalls the usefulness of both activism and online advocacy in their efforts.
“You’re trying to get the attention not only of your school official, but [also] of the entire government—senate, congress, and the executive,” he says. According to him, this could be done through massive mobilizations, where internet communication would be useful.
Still, he says, “[Government officials] will not be challenged by ten thousand ‘likes’ on Facebook. They will be challenged by a thousand faces standing in front of their offices telling them, ‘[we] want this… and [we] demand what’s just.’”
It is for this impact of genuine action that Victor Villanueva believes activism will live on.
“Activism exists because people want change, and as long as the status quo prevails, there will always be activism in all its forms.”
Transcending isms
According to Canoy, popular connotations are usually attached to Ateneans once they leave school, which is not surprising given the Atenean stereotype of a spoiled, rich brat. Still, he says, “Hopefully, this won’t hinder the students to wake up and be critical of societal issues.”
Slacktivism may very well be this slumber that Ateneans need to wake up from. That may take a while, but for Victor Villanueva, an explanation that slacktivism is not the most effective form of advocacy is a good start.
“It may take a lot more convincing for them to go out on the streets,” he says, “but once you do [convince them], they will.”
Martija agrees, and concludes that if only slacktivism weren’t the community’s mode of ‘involvement,’ “There’s so much that the Ateneo can do.”
