The Activism No One Sees But Matters Most

I read a recent article by Caitlin Johnstone here on Substack called “I’m Not Political” Just Means “I Support The Status Quo.” According to her, “Saying ‘I’m not into politics’ is just saying ‘I support status quo politics.’ It’s saying you endorse all the violence, exploitation, ecocide and abuse of the current order.” And also, when it comes to any aspect of our lives, “Saying you don’t feel like paying attention to these factors is just saying you’re fine with the way they are presently happening.”

It stirred something in me. So I want to share where it led.

I actually agree with her.

But I also know that many of us would feel uncomfortable with that. Myself included.

And how could we not? One of the ways many of us survive the madness of today is by refusing to look directly at all of it. I know for a fact that I could not take in everything happening in the world right now without losing myself inside it. I deliberately avoid certain news, because they bring me in a state of fear and despair, and that does no good for anyone.

The other way we survive is through what I’d call activism. In that state, we become fiercely activated around what we believe in. Call it the traditional changemaker mentality.

The first state might be labeled apolitical. The second, political. Does that make the first bad and the second good?

My answer is no.

That’s not it. And it’s a mistake to think these are our only two choices.

Let me try to explain the difficulty with an example.

Do you vote?

I stopped voting when I realized I was only ever being offered different sides of the same. I also realized that voting is a serious business— it means handing someone the legitimate authority to act on my behalf, and I could no longer do that in good conscience, not with any of the groups on offer.

For a while I voted for the “lesser evil.” Then, I would get attracted by new options looking promising at first, only to be absorbed, sooner or later, into the very same machine.

So does that make me apolitical which, I agree with Caitlin, is not a good thing to be? Many would say yes. By not voting, they’d argue, I’m simply standing by while the harm continues.

Well, I wish it were that simple.

In reality, I believe it depends on something else entirely.

Before I get to that, I should mention: I’ve tried activism too. Which is why I now call myself a changemaker in recovery. What I found is that we get triggered by our own values and experiences, only to look up and realize we often find ourselves marching under a flag someone else is holding for their own agenda, not ours. And as I’ve written before, fighting for and fighting against are both systemically prone to failure. That is simply not how change happens in living systems.

So here is what I’m actually contemplating: being active without being active.
I know that sounds like a contradiction. But is it?

This is what I would call activism without activism: it doesn’t ask you to storm a barricade or organize a campaign.

It asks something quieter and, frankly, harder — that you show up fully present in the exchange with the serviceman, the difficult colleague, the boss that does not listen, the family member whose politics you can’t stand.

A person can cast every ballot and sign every petition and still be asleep and spreading the very contraction and fear they claim to be fighting. And yes, that happens a lot.

And a person who has quietly stepped back from the performance of politics can, through sheer presence, do more to shift the field around them than any campaign ever could.

So my answer, in the end, is this: I’m neither political, nor apolitical. Simply, I’ve stopped believing the more beautiful world we hope for would happen through opposition or choosing a side.

As I have been saying since I started this publication, this is an invitation to listen with our hearts, think on our feet, speak truth to bullshit and power, and act sacred, not scared.

But let’s also be honest here…

That’s easy to write but not so easy to embody in every day and every moment. I know that for certain.

It involves daily work, not so loud, somewhat more quiet. It also requires recognizing what holds us back — the invisible currents that shape our lives, and the inherited patterns and stories from family, education, culture, and experiences.

When I say daily work, it’s less about volume and hard work, and more about new ways of approaching stubborn patterns. It’s not about big arm movements but about disruption of who we think we are and what we believe the world is.

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Does that sound like something you want for yourself but somehow it avoids you? I know exactly where you are.