classstruggle.tech

I recently spent two weeks in Honolulu on a fellowship funded by a foundation established by a tobacco heiress and a historically contentious institution. I applied to this fellowship without expecting much rather than meeting people and maybe a few answers to some questions that I have gathered in the last 10 years of my life. Instead, it left me with more questions than answers—questions I wouldn't probably have encountered otherwise. During the 14-day residency, one question in particular from a panel-like session on the night of November 8th struck a chord and has lingered with me. As we opted for a group discussion over individual storytelling, one of my team members asked, “Jean, being part of so many steering committees, do you believe that change can occur within institutions, and can you be part of that change?” This wasn't the exact phrasing, but it captured the essence of my dilemma.

This question put me on the spot, not just because it was unexpected, but because it echoed thoughts I'd been wrestling with for some time, to which I still don't have the answers. I ended up discussing my departure from the Global Internet Forum to Counter Terrorism following disagreements over their initial Incident-Response Group report, particularly concerning the handling of the Palestine issue. I requested that GIFCT remove my name from the report as I wasn't representing any institution at the time. In trying to make sense of our current realities, I admitted openly that I didn't have the answers. And as per usual, I resorted back to my comfort zone by referencing ideas and concepts that I read. Being well-read enables me to weave diverse theories into a cohesive narrative, though sometimes these ideas are rehearsed more in theory than in practice.

I referenced Rosa Luxembourg, one of the finest Marxist thinkers, whose pamphlet “Reform or Revolution” has left a lasting imprint on me. Her ideas challenge the efficacy of reform within capitalist systems, a concept that resonates deeply as I navigate my roles within various institutions. Reflecting on that transformative night in Honolulu, my skepticism about the capacity of individuals to instigate significant changes within established institutions solidifies. This skepticism isn't just theoretical but is intertwined with my own experiences, such as my involvement in the fellowship. Funded by foundations with controversial histories, the fellowship inadvertently presented a paradox: by participating, was I perpetuating the very structures I aim to dismantle? This inner conflict highlights the complex interplay between personal actions and institutional affiliations. The thought that I might be complicit in sustaining a problematic system, despite my intentions to challenge and reform it, weighs heavily on me. (sigh) It raises broader questions about the nature of engagement with such institutions. Can one truly effect change from within, or does the act of participation compromise one's ability to critique and alter those systems fundamentally?

I personally don't believe that significant institutional change is achievable, especially for those of us who are low-wage workers or merely volunteers. Hell, even trade unions (with all their might in some countries) don’t make that kind of change. It is just a lie we tell ourselves to make us feel better, allowing us to feel like we are part of a transformative process, even when the structures remain largely unaltered. This, of course, does not mean that we are failing or that our efforts are misguided. Rather, it speaks to a broader societal condition where every aspect of our existence is commodified, where even our desires for change are packaged and sold back to us in manageable forms. Recognising this doesn't make us cynical. Instead, it underscores a realistic grasp of the power dynamics at play.

I am skeptic about the feasibility of revolution (as per Luxembourg’s definition) within our current economic structures, especially within my own lifetime. But, this does not deter my commitment to making life more bearable for others while I am alive. Each small action I take gives meaning to my work in a world we are alienated from our very own labour. But, I acknowledge the limits of this, that half of the things I am doing will not help create the world I want to see. My involvement in efforts outside of work to raise class consciousness in hope that one day it will foster a long-term awareness that could eventually lead to broader societal shifts. I hope that the seeds I plant will be a catalyst for a future where change might become more feasible, even if it's beyond my time. Engaging in this global movement connects me to a community and a cause that transcends individual limitations, focusing instead on collective awareness and gradual empowerment. These efforts, though they may not culminate in revolution as Luxembourg envisioned, are steps towards a more conscious and equitable world. Or so I think.