Like millions of people, last month I seemed to sit for days starting at the news, listening to the radio and podcasts, or scrolling through webpages, as the drama of the American election unfolded. I was fascinated by it, but at the same time felt guilty for essentially consuming politics for entertainment value rather than being involved in politics.
I had a similar experience many many years ago when watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I spent tens of enjoyable hours binge-watching series after series, but viewing a group of people leading active and engaged lives whilst I vicariously watched left me feeling kind of lazy and uninvolved. In what I don’t know. I wasn’t going to hunt down some vampires, just as I wasn’t about to head to the US to get involved in American politics.
But what both of these experiences highlight to me is the difference between a spectator and a participant. And I’ve read a few things recently that have caused me to reflect some more on this.
One is a piece of writing by David Hickey – which I heard of via the incredible Weird Studies podcast – on this topic in the arts, where he makes the point that there are people who are participants, who want to be completely part of something, early adopters who pioneer it, and those who are spectators, who turn up after the participants have done their thing, and enjoy the fruits of it, but bring nothing of value to it.
Another was a brilliant piece of critical theory called Psychopolitics by Byung-Chul Han, in which he describes our democracy as a ‘spectator democracy’, where we watch from afar as political elites run the country, pausing only to condemn or mock or applaud, or occasionally – if the chance arises – vote.
And I read Carol Pateman’s Participation and Democratic Theory where she talks about democracy only having meaning when we move beyond the idea that democracy is a vote for an elite, and is about being involved in decisions that affect our lives. Something very much echoed in a collection of writings by Murray Bookchin, the great anarchist writer who talks of direct and radical democracy at a local level as the only way for us to control our lives, and avoid being like mere spectators.
The gist of all this writing is that being a spectator is bad, and being a participant is good, and I suppose that’s what I’ve been reflecting on. Am I right to feel bad about watching the Trump spectacle, or Buffy?
Yes, being a spectator can be bad. Politics, art, workplaces, local areas, communal activities – none of them would work if everyone watched from the sidelines, pitching in with witty comments or sly digs, but otherwise adding little. Participants are needed to make stuff happen. But you can’t be a participant all the time. Nobody has the energy to be an engaged activist and breaking the mould in everything they do. Sometimes you need to sit back and chill.
So participation is needed, but not by everyone, all the time. Which makes me think that maybe everyone needs to be a participant in some things at some point. It will be different for different people – it might be producing art, being active in politics, helping organise sports activities, doing campaigning work. It might even mean being a participant at work in order to bring about success or change. You don’t need to be a participant all the time, but maybe everyone needs to participate at certain points in their life.
I work in a worker co-op, and it feels like a good example. We’re owned and run by the workers, so we can’t just leave the running of the business to other people – we all need to do it. So it’s important that people there are participants. But not everyone has to be a participant all the time. Different people at different times need to take on responsibility and help make change happen. That way people aren’t burning out. Participation is shared out organically; people get involved when it suits them, and become more spectator-like when that’s what they need.
It’s the ebb and flow of participation that we need to see more of, I think. It’s OK to watch Trump and Buffy, consuming the entertainment it offers. But I can’t do that all the time, in everything I do. There are times when I need to step up and participate.
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Years ago, decades even, I read Anarchy in Action by Colin Ward where he describes anarchy in a similar way, where leaders, or active participants, would come to the fore on some topic and melt away in the background in another.
I love Colin Ward and his views on a kind of natural anarchism. I’d forgotten about that, but makes perfect sense that he’d see participation arising spontaneously on some things, and melting away for others. Thank you!