Social movements and advocacy groups: what lies beneath? Part 1

Through human history, social movements have enabled people to express their grievances and foster or halt change. They’ve done this by resisting and opposing moves by states and businesses, mobilising citizens to pressure decisions makers and demanding changes in policy content, as well as suggesting changes in the practice of making and shaping policy. But how does the psychology of its members and the social, economic and political context in which they work shape what goes on inside them and what they do?

In this article I explore what goes on below the surface of social movements, drawing on my participation in ‘Organising Protest: Where is our Systems Psychodynamic thinking on Social movements?’, a symposium held online in September 2022, organised by the National Institute of Organisation Dynamics Australia (NIODA) as well as my own experience working with advocacy groups. Part one of the article (which is in two parts with part 2 here) is organised around the following two questions:

• What mobilises people to join social movements and what impact does this have?

• How does the social and psychological context shape what goes on inside social movements?

Why do people join?

Many of us agree the world is an unfair place, but why are some of us drawn to actively strive towards social justice as part of a movement and others not?

Social movements aim to raise awareness about, and change, social and political dynamics across society, but their members are often mobilised emotionally and psychologically to join them.

Simon Western argues that the climate movement is driven by fear that life on earth is facing extinction, anger towards political and business elites who refuse to act, but also hope and desire that a socially equitable and environmentally sustainable world is possible. 

In some cases, people might be drawn to transgressive behaviours, gaining pleasure from their displeasure by standing up to and complaining about those in authority and/or breaking and bending rules.

Protest may not be in service to particular changes in policy or practice. But it can raise awareness and inspire other protests and actions to bring about change.

But what if one loses the opportunity to ‘rant’? I know of people who have left Extinction Rebellion since it decided to take a less confrontational approach to engagement with public and private authorities.

People might be drawn to activism by their direct experience of inequality, of trauma, growing up in poverty, and/or being othered because of aspects of one’s identity, generating a mixture of sadness, anger and a desire to promote a fairer society. Parents, caregivers, family members and their ethics can also provide strong encouragement.

Some people have a pre-disposition for carrying society’s shame, guilt and/or anger about injustices and are subsequently more likely to want to do something about this.

People who act may have less of a stake in the system that fosters injustice in the first place and might explain why e.g. Extinction Rebellion is made up largely of young (and increasingly retired) people.

People might also be drawn to join a movement to find others who are like them, to confirm their beliefs and to affirm their identity, bringing a sense of belonging.

They might also be attracted to the pleasure of organising and collaborating with others. I certainly found my experience of marching during the climate protests in London really moving. Perhaps that is the glue that holds movements together?

Emotions then are important drivers of why people organise through movements, but is there a cost to an excess of emotion?  Can they stop one from thinking and being critical about who they are as a group and what they are doing? It can be all too easy to stop listening to the more critical voices within the movement as well as the people one is ultimately serving.

The psycho-social context and its impacts

The external environment that activists work in can be difficult and this often has an impact on the emotional undertow of the organisations and movements they are a part.

Activists often represent groups of people who have or are experiencing trauma, which leads to activists becoming traumatised themselves. This in turn can shape how members relate to one another internally and the strategies they pursue externally.

For instance, a regional alliance of diverse women’s human rights defenders (WHRD)s in Mexico and Central America is operating in a context which has seen deepening authoritarianism, greater inequality, extractive economic models which have displaced communities from their territories and an increase in right wing conservative movements.

The alliance has been supporting women who have been threatened, hunted and shot at and supporting the families of women who have been murdered or disappeared. Activists are therefore close to extreme violence and experiencing greater precariousness. Not surprisingly, frontline activists, along with their managers and directors are suffering from mental and physical health problems including exhaustion and burn out.

The violence done to animals in the agricultural industry and to a lesser extent medical and fashion industry has been enormous. Violence provokes extreme emotion. A small number of animal rights groups have historically carried this on behalf of society. Perhaps this might explain why these groups often resorted to more violent means until they changed their approach in the 1990s onwards.

Historical traumas can drive what movements do and how they do it. The anti vax movement in the French West Indies is a case in point. The French government’s administering of vaccines to the populations of Martinique and Guadeloupe at a time of great anxiety, arguably mobilised anger amongst certain groups, about the French government’s past actions - particularly their negligent use of chlordecone, a pesticide banned in the US, which causes speech and other neurological problems.

Its use in Martinique and Guadeloupe exposed agricultural workers and led to pollution of soils, drinking water and seawater, causing distress throughout the population. The French government’s actions during the pandemic was seen as an opportunity to mobilise against the authorities even if the movement appeared to conflate different issues.

Movements internally often reflect the differences that exist externally. For instance, the aforementioned WHRD alliance comprised a variety of groups with different identity characteristics and histories such as those racialised as black, as white, feminists, indigenous women, peasants and those residing in urban areas, each with their own world view.

Different participants have different experiences of trauma, oppression and pain and will subsequently have different views on strategy. This might include, for instance, the extent to which the movement should mobilise their aggression, disrupt the status quo, develop their autonomy and find their authentic selves, which might lead to conflict and polarisation, versus engaging with those who are either indifferent or in opposition without whose support sustainable change is unlikely to take place.

Processes of exclusion and political competition which shape the context they are working in also play out internally, partly because these are dynamics that emerge in humans relate to one another. This shapes whose voice gets heard and to what effect. In some cases, movements can end up replicating the very dynamics they are aiming to dismantle.

Divisiveness is on the increase. Perfection amongst activists is on occasion prioritised over progress at a societal level. People within movements are being ‘cancelled’ and scapegoated. It is perhaps unsurprising that movements which fight injustice in society can end up fighting amongst themselves. And movements working in the same area may look to each other with envy and jealousy because of the attention and/or funding they receive, stifling opportunities to co-create.

Moreover, the emotional undertow shapes the strategies movements pursue. In some cases, the movements’ tactics, often designed in a context of stress and anxiety, mirror those being used by the political right. These include targeting individuals rather than systems and coalitions, a focus on destroying individuals’ reputation, the making of sweeping generalisations and obsessing about language and form over more substantive and meaningful issues. Not pursuing these tactics would risk being cancelled, betraying allies, and denying the common story of who the enemy is.

Tune into part 2, where I explore the following 3 questions:

• What impact has neo-liberal political and economic ideology had on movements?

• What are movements’ attitudes towards leadership and structure?

• How can movements make sense of the emotional and social context and make better choices?