The Couch Revolution
How We Changed the World Without Changing Anything
Isn't it remarkable how we've revolutionized revolution itself? In the dark ages of activism – you know, the 1990s – people had to endure such hardships as "going outside" and "talking to strangers" to make their voices heard. They carried actual physical signs, chanted until their voices grew hoarse, and sometimes even missed brunch. Such sacrifices seem almost barbaric by today's enlightened standards.
What a time to be alive. We've finally perfected the art of maximum impact with minimum effort. We've democratized caring by reducing it to its most essential form: performative gestures that require absolutely no knowledge, sacrifice, or follow-through.
Isn't it wonderful how we can now become instant geopolitical experts on conflicts we couldn't locate on a map? Yesterday you thought Crimea was an Italian dessert, today you're debating no-fly zones like you're briefing NATO. We've mastered speed-learning geopolitics: see headline, form opinion, lecture others - all in under 30 seconds. Who needs to read books when you have TikTok University? The moment our feeds fill with posts about some far-flung crisis, we're blessed with immediate moral clarity that bypasses the need for historical context or nuanced understanding. "Which country is having a crisis this week?" is really just the modern equivalent of "What outfit should I wear today?" – and both questions deserve the same depth of engagement.
Nothing demonstrates our expertise quite like becoming instant Middle East scholars overnight. One viral infographic about the Israel-Palestine conflict, and suddenly we're all authorities on 75 years of geopolitical complexity, religious history dating back millennia, and the intricate web of regional alliances. It's truly remarkable how we can develop such strong, uncompromising opinions on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict while being unable to explain the significance of the 1967 borders or articulate the difference between the Gaza Strip and the West Bank beyond 'one's the skinny part.
The beauty of our new revolution is its unparalleled efficiency. Previous generations foolishly believed that changing the world required understanding it first. We've streamlined the process! Why waste precious scrolling time reading beyond headlines when you can immediately signal your virtue with the perfect combination of emoji and hashtag? After all, few things scream "I've deeply considered all perspectives on this complex issue" quite like a string of angry-face emojis and ALL CAPS, or simply parroting yesterday's talking points from MSNBC or Fox News verbatim.
Our algorithms have become our moral compasses, directing our outrage with unmatched precision. What a relief to outsource the exhausting work of determining what matters to faceless corporations whose business model depends on maximizing our emotional reactions. Isn't it comforting how they've optimized our feeds to tell us exactly what to care about and for exactly how long?
And the flags! Oh, the glorious digital flags and profile frames that now constitute the backbone of global change! Nothing says "I'm making a difference" quite like temporarily altering your social media presence. Look at the courage it takes to add a Ukrainian flag to your Instagram bio while simultaneously posting memes complaining about gas prices. Remember the breathtaking bravery of adding "vaccinated" frames to profile pictures or declaring "stay home, save lives" from the vacation rental you definitely needed for your mental health.
The most impressive feat might be posting passionate human rights manifestos from our smartphones, completely unaware that they contain minerals mined by Congolese children and were assembled in the same country carrying out Uyghur detention camps. But why would we need to know such uncomfortable details when we have hashtags to deploy?
The finest achievement of our era might be the perfection of concern without commitment. We've mastered the art of appearing deeply invested in humanity's most pressing issues while simultaneously ensuring those issues never inconvenience us personally. Nothing demonstrates commitment to a cause like posting "This needs to stop!" without specifying what "this" is or how to stop it. The vaguer your outrage, the more causes it covers! What innovation! What progress!
Perhaps most impressive is our ability to transition seamlessly between causes without a moment's reflection. When the COVID mandates ended where I lived in NYC, it was remarkable how swiftly the memo went out: "We don't hate the antivaxxers anymore; now we hate the Russians." Our passionate posts about last month's crisis disappear down the memory hole, making room for fresh outrage without the unpleasantness of accountability.
The true activist's calendar now has seasons: Palestine Spring, Pride Summer, Ukraine Fall, and whatever catastrophe is trending for Winter. We rotate our causes with the precision of fashion houses updating their collections - last season's genocide is so passé when there's a fresh crisis to accessorize with.
The breathtaking incoherence of our convictions is a modern art form. How inspiring to see self-proclaimed environmentalists throwing paint on priceless art (using petroleum-based paint, of course) while arriving at the protest in gas-guzzling SUVs. Or climate activists setting fire to their Teslas to protest Elon Musk's tweets – because hardly anything symbolizes "I care about clean air" quite like creating a toxic inferno of lithium batteries. Let's not forget the passionate defenders of free speech who demand certain voices be silenced, or the champions of tolerance who show none to those with whom they disagree.
And how could we overlook the multimillionaire climate activists lecturing us about our carbon footprints from private jets? Nothing captures the spirit of our age quite like Greta Thunberg, scowling and millionaired, telling working people they've stolen her dreams while she skips school and sails yachts across oceans.
Isn't it reassuring how we can measure our impact in likes and shares? The dopamine hit of social validation has replaced the messier satisfaction of actual progress. And why not? Creating change is complicated and often disappointing, but watching those notification numbers climb provides immediate gratification.
In the activist marketplace, the currency is no longer change but engagement. A thoughtful post with scientific facts and nuance about environmentalism that gets 3 likes is objectively worse than a thousand likes on a black square. That's just simple math.
So here's to us, the couch revolutionaries, the hashtag warriors, the profile-picture changemakers. We've accomplished something truly remarkable: convincing ourselves we're part of the solution while requiring absolutely nothing of ourselves. Our ancestors who marched, organized, sacrificed, and sometimes died for their causes could only dream of such convenience.
What would civil rights leaders of the past think of our evolution? “I have a dream that one day little black boys and little black girls will join together with little white boys and little white girls... and be judged not by the content of their character but by the racial category boxes they check on DEI forms.” How moved Rosa Parks would be to know that refusing to give up her seat on the bus has evolved into refusing to give up our comfortable opinions from the couch. How impressed Malcolm X would be with our revolutionary new strategy: "by any meme necessary."
Our ancestors marched across bridges in Selma. We boldly purchase rainbow merchandise from Target's Pride collection. Same struggle, different shopping cart.
Such an extraordinary era we're witnessing – when social change doesn't require you to get up, speak out, or even learn anything. The revolution will not be televised because it's too busy being algorithmically curated for your personal feed instead.
And remember, if anyone criticizes this new form of activism, you can always silence them with the ultimate weapons: calling them "privileged" for expecting actions to accompany words, blocking them immediately, and reporting their account for "harmful content" (defined as "disagreeing with me"). We've discovered that typing "thoughts and prayers" has exactly the same impact as actually providing help, but with the added benefit of receiving public praise without the inconvenience of opening your wallet or getting your hands dirty. After all, isn't typing "thoughts and prayers" basically the same as providing actual help?
Isn't it great how nowadays we can change the world without changing anything at all? Not our habits, not our spending, not our comfort, not our understanding, and certainly not ourselves.
But hey, at least we looked righteous on the timeline. In the modern revolution, the appearance of virtue has finally liberated us from the burden of actual virtue.
And yes, I realize the supreme irony of writing this critique on a Substack, where I'll inevitably get validation from people who already agree with me, while changing precisely nothing.
In recognition of this phenomenon I decided if I was going to complain bitterly about the failure of the system to care humanely for my mother in a memory care facility then I needed to take responsibility for her care myself. I have been taking care of her for 6 months and let me tell you: It is hard! But she is being well looked after, and is on no pharmaceutical meds. There is that Ghandi quote: “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
The question in my mind is what happens when the AI large language models are trained enough on social media content? When the people behind the scenes are satisfied with AI’s ability to manipulate humans on a psychological, emotional and spiritual level? When giant corporations that track all our online engagement have enough data on all of us to know how to effectively manipulate each of us? What comes next?
"Isn't it great how nowadays we can change the world without changing anything at all? Not our habits, not our spending, not our comfort, not our understanding, and certainly not ourselves."
"But hey, at least we looked righteous on the timeline. In the modern revolution, the appearance of virtue has finally liberated us from the burden of actual virtue."
"And yes, I realize the supreme irony of writing this critique on a Substack, where I'll inevitably get validation from people who already agree with me, while changing precisely nothing."
YES!