Of marches, #emotathons and social movements #climate

There’s a march happening today in London, on climate change. There was a time I’d have gone, “on principle.”  Now, pretty much on principle, I won’t.  Here’s why;

timetoact

And emotathons?

mcmonthly August 2013page5

Oh, and screw Paris.

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About manchesterclimatemonthly

Was print format from 2012 to 13. Now web only. All things climate and resilience in (Greater) Manchester.
This entry was posted in capacity building, inspire, Signs of the Pending Ecological Debacle, Unsolicited advice. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Of marches, #emotathons and social movements #climate

  1. They’re right about one thing: emotathons inspire wannabe cadre… The next twenty-nothing that sticks it to me with a whole infographic to somehow refute the entire body of Post Carbon Institute research within 90 seconds of receiving an email that would have taken 5 minutes to read and 15 had they clicked on a handful of the embedded links will get an almighty bitchslap. I have *had it* with emotathetic cadre!

    On a side note… or perhaps a roundabout return to the actual point: I never really got into emotathons – it always felt like an entree for which the main course was never delivered, and the bitter emptiness felt like a dessert was probably due too. I looked inside myself for the source of this emptiness and found a hunger for something more tangible and less symbolic – a hunger that cannot be satisfied with placard-waving and chants that dissipate energy that could be funneled and filtered into useful channels, many of which already exist and are all set to receive new and willing helping hands…

    …but the cadre aren’t interested in real work most of the time. Mostly they want affiliative badges to wear on their sleeves – something that identifies them as holier than thou, and hipper to boot. They’re in the in-group, and that’s what matters; the emotathons are their version of the group-hug – you feel a part of it if you’re in the in-group, but if you’re not then it’s just kinda awkwardly intimate body-slamming with strangers that leads nowhere.

    All up: yuck.

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