There are many embedded assumptions in the question. “We should appeal to politicians to sort problems out.” (We shouldn’t, and it’s childish to assume so. Politics is not something other people do.)“We live in a democracy — the electoral/parliamentary system is just and fair.” (It’s not. It’s a pale shadow of real collaboration. You know this.) “Oh, if only we could convince people with our fine reasoning, it’d all be sorted.” (Yep. Convince the racists with logic. Sway those greedy CEOs and media barons with a bit of dogma. Shout down the miscreants and delinquents until they admit their defeat, every last one. Good luck.)
The petition validates all these assumptions, ratifies the decision-making system we have, then tells you to sit back down and shut up.
It lowers your expectations and narrows your view.
To which the reply seems to be:“It’s worth a shot anyway”. Now this is pretty odd reasoning. If I know that going into my garden and having a dance won’t make it rain, is it worth doing anyway? “But… I danced! What else can I do?”
Petitioner, is the dance for you or them? Is dancing together important, even if it’s hopeless? Is that what this is about — fellowship in tragedy? Gallows-humouring-each-other? Is that really all you have left to do?
Oh forthright signee, you can choose to not dance, for yourself or for them. It does nothing. In fact, it’s much, much worse than doing nothing. The exercise validates the whole shit-show and the vain liberal assumptions it carries. It convinces you that you’ve “done something” when all you’ve really achieved is a salving of your conscience. It’s wet, liberal hand wringing of the very worst kind. It heavily implies that you’ve “done all I can” when — steady yourself — that’s manifestly untrue.
So let’s answer the question. If you genuinely want to make your opposition felt, what could you do?
Off the top of my head, you can pretty much bring society to a halt in the next couple of hours if you want. Stop business and civil society in its tracks. Go to every shop, office, and workplace and flood their toilets if you wish. ‘Accidentally’ lean on the fire alarms. Clumsily spill coffee on their electronics. Get haphazrdly stuck in lifts. Go to a drive-through and contrive to lose your car keys in the queue for twenty minutes. Get a bunch of A4 envelopes and cheap stamps, and mail a pile of loose stones to Wetherspoons to wipe the shit-eating grin off their owner’s awful, awful face. With a bit of superglue and some chains, you can stop people getting in or out of pretty much any building. Don’t go to work. Any of you. Riot. All of you.
Because you’ll do all you can, right?
Wrong. I don’t think you’ll do that. Any of it. Because, implicit in your question, is that politics is something other people do. You’ve no leader, or viral movement, or tipping point that allows all that stuff to gather inertia. If everyone else was at a barricade right now, you’d quite possibly toddle off and join them. But there are no blockades, no strikes, no riots. There aren’t even any flooded bogs.
So maybe you won’t. But know this: politics is what you do, today and tomorrow. It’s not up to someone else. In the words of a song, “act as if you’re free already”.
