By Newton “Salem” Brophy
Author’s Note: For the bulk of the research for this article, I sought the input of my colleagues, Cornelio Aguilera and Dr. Clareann Despain, both practitioners of Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed, and activists with abundant experience in social justice work between them. Their thoughts will be presented alongside my own throughout. This article would not have been possible without their contributions, nor without the firsthand experience working with them and with our fellow ensemble members of the Outcast Theatre Collective, which is why I choose to credit them first and foremost here.
A Preface (Not a Prescription)
I don’t want to suggest that all leftist spaces have issues with intra-group conflict. For one thing, I’ve not been in every single leftist organization or collective, so I obviously can’t make such a blanket statement about activists and “in-fighting.” Well, I can, but it would be disingenuous -- and besides, about four different New York Times writers have already staked their own claims on that particular brand of half-baked editorializing.
A good deal of the progressive spaces into which I have inserted myself were not plagued by the stereotypes of the sniping or supposed ideological purity that are so synonymous with our reputation. This is probably because of the combination of the temperaments of the individuals, the culture created within the group, and the clarity of our purpose. I have also been in those spaces where there are plenty of organizers who do not know how to act, and I’m sure if you’re reading this, you probably have too, and some vivid examples are now coming to mind. I absolutely don’t want to suggest that in-fighting is unique to leftist organizing. It isn’t. (Look for footage of the Libertarian National Convention.) But I’m also really not interested in hashing out the ideological conflicts outside of my own team, which is why the magnifying glass is going to be on ourselves for this discussion. Because, unfair or not, petty squabbling is associated with our movements.
To be absolutely clear: I’m not here to diagnose the causes of dissent, nor am I suggesting a prescription with the intent of ending it. I love dissent. I’m a loud, annoying little Irish-Italian Jew. I live to argue. More saliently, dissent is necessary. It’s necessary in order to ground our movements in the realities of our people, it’s necessary in order to accommodate shifting priorities in the face of ever-evolving threats, and it’s necessary in order to foster critical thinking and thus, anti-authoritarianism. If our organizations are as heterogeneous as they should be, disagreements over policies, objectives, methodology, and whether or not we should order Tijuana Flats aren’t just inevitable; they’re wellness checks for the movement.
But if you’re like me and you’ve sat through a plurality of IWW meetings that were derailed by people calling each other “tankies” and “ancaps”, you probably know that there are plenty of ineffective (or just idiotic) ways to fight. Even I, who has just professed love for arguments, do not enjoy fights. That’s what I want to talk about. We’ve got to get better at arguing with one another. Like it or not, our exaggerated reputation of being willing to throw down over minutiae is still based somewhat in reality. Unwarranted or disproportionate viciousness is as ubiquitous and persistent in some of our groups as it is anathema to the very ideals we allegedly promote in those same spaces.
There are innumerable factors that lead to these nasty dynamics, the most pertinent being the frameworks within which these groups operate that reproduce systemic oppressions throughout the space, including in the make-up of their hierarchies. The desire to uphold the status usually afforded to the privileged by these same power imbalances outside this space can be seen in the frequently caustic reactions of white, able-bodied, cisgender, heterosexual, male leftists when their authority or neutrality is challenged within the space. If you’re a trans or gay activist like myself, or a Black organizer, or disabled, or any other iteration of person subjugated under the hegemony we act against, you may have had at least one moment where your specific concerns were dismissed, cast aside, or labeled as “idpol”, a perjorative for identity politics (a term itself now employed derisively by conservatives either unaware or apathetic of its definition). Often this classification is made out of the belief that anything outside of class analysis are “distractions” from the “real” oppression. I’ve seen this play out even in spaces that purport to be “collective”, “democratic”, and “non-hierarchical,” which can make these dismissals even more insidious. These actors end up maintaining the very hierarchies that they claim do not exist… which creates conditions conducive to pervasive in-fighting.
Both of these issues -- an inability to engage without dehumanization and an unwillingness to acknowledge and reckon with privilege -- will severely inhibit movements from gaining any momentum. Groups that are plagued by either one of these problems will hemorrhage members, and spaces in which both of these dynamics are simultaneously at play simply will not -- and should not -- survive in any beneficial way. But I also don’t believe that these conditions are inevitable, because they are created, which means that they can be addressed.
My belief is informed not only by my positive experiences in multiple organizations, but also in a more general sense by my experience in the professional theatre community. Collaborative arts need to accommodate a rogues’ gallery of individuals, all with their own methods and madnesses. Specifically, there is overlap between social justice movements and artistic practitioners of techniques such as Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed, which emphasizes democratic, non-hierarchical structures where decisions are collectively reached through the process of consensus-building as opposed to merely voting. I think it’s abundantly clear that leftist and progressive groups can learn much from Boal’ s techniques; in fact, I believe that they were created with that very intention in mind.
Shifting from the Vote to the Consensus
The most common decision-making process exercised by a democratic collective would obviously be voting, though any of us will be quick to admit that this system is far from perfect. The search for any perfect system is an exercise in futility, but the endeavor to create a better system is as obligated as it is unending. It's worth digressing to briefly acknowledge the limit of voting as practiced in our various organized gaggles.
Despite the very best of efforts and the sincerest of intents, voting can still result in dissatisfaction and a lack of resolution. As Dr. Despain points out, "Voting offers participants fixed choices that are often pre-determined. Often voting means that those who have been outvoted feel disenfranchised. Voting also tends to encourage adherence to one option that you fall in line behind."
This can elevate the stakes of decision-making so that discussions become debates and comrades become opponents. If the voting mechanism in place also contributes to a slogging bureaucracy that slows results and overwhelms its members, the tensions can increase exponentially.
Finally, that sensation of having little power is even more founded in reality when decisions are made by a plurality of members as opposed to a majority. For a more detailed explanation on the complications that arise from that specific snafu, I highly recommend watching Hasan Minhaj’s piece on how the United States in particular has an embarrassment of an electoral system (Patriot Act, Vol. 6, Ep. 7). Even if a group employs ranked voting for certain decisions that involve more than two choices, there will still be a faction of “losers.” How do we move towards a system where collective decision-making is not a matter of competition, but cooperation?
Consensus-Building: What is It & Why Should We Do It?
Cornelio Aguilera agrees with me: Complex problems deserve complex solutions… which necessitate thorough, patient discussions and adequate room to have them. In his mind, “A vote can be used when what is being decided upon can go either way, or when a group reaches an impasse. I tend to think it should only be used at those times, especially if we are working to create democratically.”
So what does consensus-building look like, and how is it different from a simple vote?
According to Dr. Despain, it looks a lot like the work theatre practitioners already do. “In consensus building, we’re looking for collaboration,” she tells me. “We seek to get input from everyone who will be impacted by the decision. We acknowledge up front that no one has all the answers. It’s a very human tendency to get attached to our own ideas for solutions when we may not fully understand the problem we’re attempting to solve or the impact our proposed solution might have on others. So with consensus building we work to develop a shared understanding of the problem so that we can collaborate on a solution.”
This all sounds very sweet and empathetic, but at the end of the day, someone still has to be wrong. Right?
“Some folks say that compromise means everyone is equally unhappy and that idea stems from the notion that in any negotiation there are winners and losers. This doesn’t have to be the case. If everyone can practice listening like a therapist (or a director) to try to really understand what needs each person expresses, then we have a better shot at coming up with a solution that meets everyone’s needs. If we can’t meet everyone’s needs, we can still come to a collaborative understanding that allows us to collectively determine what the group is going to prioritize in their decision-making.”
In other words, consensus-building is taking as much time as is needed to find a solution that works for everyone, not just a plurality or even a majority. It also means that instead of a fixed list of possible avenues to take with varying levels of satisfying outcomes, the choices are as numerous as the collective imagination can provide, expanding our options and even challenging the idea that there is ever ‘One Right Answer’. Most significantly, this approach shifts the focus away from “who is right?” to “what works?” If there are no losers, we all win, because if there’s nothing to “lose” to, people are far more willing to work with one another as opposed to against. This kind of group dynamic doesn’t just produce an abundance of answers; it produces better answers.
The advantages don’t end with what objectives the collective can reach together. The word “solidarity” is used and overused (with good reason) by leftists, particularly those interested in building coalitions between movements. Consensus-building as a regular practice strengthens relationships between members, builds trust and yes, fosters solidarity. These unintended benefits were explicitly pointed out to me by Aguilera: “There is a cohesiveness that can be achieved by the group which is beneficial for its sustainment and longevity.” I don’t personally know any activist who hasn’t seen -- or been a part of -- at least one upstart group that fell apart, or imploded, before it could even establish a common goal among its members, let alone take steps to accomplish it. Flash in the pan organizations are always going to be a reality for any movement, including those concerned with social justice and progressivism, but at the present moment, sustaining momentum should absolutely be a priority.
Finally, a collective that utilizes consensus-building simply ensures that you know where everyone stands. As Dr. Despain points out: “Obviously consensus building takes a lot longer than voting because options are explored and developed through deep discussion. Of course, as a group gets more comfortable with one another, that can speed things up - especially if the group has taken the time to establish shared priorities. What’s wonderful about consensus building is that it’s also very sensitive to shifting priorities. The beautiful thing about making sure that everyone has a voice is that someone else in the group might notice a shift or a trend that others have missed. When that happens it means that changes in group dynamics and priorities can be shared, examined, and discussed. It means you never show up to a vote on a few options that don’t align with your sense of the group. [...] Consensus building allows us to explore myriad possibilities and to collaborate based on the needs of the group. No-one has a monopoly on good ideas.”
The Limits of Consensus-Building
It's appropriate that Dr. Despain mentions the particular hurdle of time constraints. While it's not the only limitation of the process, it's likely one of the more obvious ones, with few easy fixes unless your deadline is flexible-- unfortunately congressional votes or opening nights tend not to be very forgiving. Cornelio Aguilera brings it up immediately when I query the two of them about the obstacles to reaching an agreement that everyone is satisfied with: “The amount of time required to do [the process justice] could be considered a challenge. I also believe those involved with the attempt have to be truly vested in what is being considered, and fully understand all sides that are being represented.” However, as Dr. Despain mentioned above, the more familiar a group is with each other and with the process, the quicker it may become over time, and the less likely that there will be a lack of clarity or a breakdown in communication. Groups with a strong foundation and history together will be more likely to successfully work through being rushed, although of course, the adaptability of the approach will depend on the number of members, how imminent the deadline is, and how cohesive the group dynamic is. Tangentially, I think it’s fair to assert that transitioning from a voting model to a discussion-based model wouldn’t do much of anything to alleviate bureaucracy.
I think the stickier complications arise as members multiply. For starters, there is a point at which there are just too many people to hear out at length. “The bigger the group, the harder it is,” Dr. Despain remarks. “The faster the decision needs to be made, the harder it is. Consensus building wouldn’t work at the Federal level because there’s simply not time to hear everyone out.”
Presently, it doesn’t appear that much does work at the federal level, but I do shudder to think of a hypothetical attempt to reach a consensus between every individual in the nation. The numbers alone are daunting, but that’s far from the only reason why this system would be disastrous as a proposed replacement for our current electoral mechanism. There must be a starting threshold, a baseline truth that all members accept, from which discourse can begin. To put it bluntly: this is not a system you want to adopt for a populace in which not everyone agrees on the humanity of all of its members. The distance in ideology is just too vast. Frankly, I would even hesitate to recommend this system in some purely leftist or ostensibly progressive spaces. I pride myself in having a pretty long fuse (though these days, I have definitely been tested), but I would still rather swallow a live grenade than attend a tea party with Bari Weiss, let alone attempt to reach a consensus with her. The bottom line: humanity is non-negotiable, and anyone who disputes this would be a nonstarter in this model.
“Consensus building is harder when there are massive divides in ideology,” Dr. Despain says. “It’s much easier when the participants are philosophically on the same page about the work they are doing. At the same time, consensus building discourages groupthink by encouraging participants to consider their own subjectivity and the subjectivity of others.”
But is this consideration of subjectivity enough?
Maybe.
It depends.
During our conversations, Cornelio Aguilera had used what I think is a fitting analogy: a relay race. Some people run the race in the interest of self-improvement; these individuals are competing only with their past selves, and the goal is progress. Others run the race as a competition, not to better themselves, but to be better than the runners in the lanes beside them. The question Aguilera posed is, for me, the big determiner: “Are we trying to run this race in order to dominate the people that we’re running it with?”
This is the starting line, the question whose answer I believe is the most significant arbiter of whether or not a leftist organization can be improved by transitioning to a consensus-based decision-making model, or whether its foundation is simply too rotten to weather the progress that time brings.
I also suspect that many, if not most, of the leaders who might secretly answer in the affirmative to that question are the same leftists who dismiss the concerns of their less privileged comrades by labeling those objections “idpol.” The business of dominating other humans is not one that is unique to the Right.
But I do want to caution us against believing that the answer to that question is determined by some unchanging aspect inherent to a person, or that the answer we give to that question doesn’t change based on our circumstances, or our choices, or whether we had a shitty day. I know that usually, my answer to that question is the most militant of “no’s”. But I also possess a vindictive streak; I confess that on more than one occasion, (a lot more), upon encountering someone else unrepentantly running the race for superiority, my reaction has been to go Tonya Harding on a bitch. Funny? Mostly. Justified? Perhaps. A helpful choice? Probably not.
On a lark, I asked my two friends how we might persuade people to join our race instead. “Well, that’s the million dollar question, right?” Dr. Despain said. “That’s what political organizers are asking, that’s what artists are asking, that’s what writers are asking, that’s what educators are asking. That’s what everyone is asking. [...] Before you can get to consensus-building, you have to get [everyone] on the same page, and I don’t know that consensus-building is a way to do that. [...] But Theatre of the Oppressed is about doing that, because it starts with empathy, and allowing for the humanity of others, and putting yourself in someone else’s shoes.”
Before we pivot to a broader discussion of Theatre of the Oppressed, one last word on consensus-building: any system that involves multiple independent actors will run the risk of its abuse. Some models are more prone to abuse than others, but none are completely invulnerable to it. The three of us eventually found it prudent in our discussions to troubleshoot the ways in which consensus-building specifically can be exploited in the aim of domination, so that there can be some warning for anyone who may find themselves in such an environment.
This facet was first brought to my attention in one of Aguilera’s answers regarding clarity and communication: “If not utilized uniformly and correctly,” he cautioned, “the integrity of this way of organizing can be abused, potentially causing there to be a distrust [of the system].[...] Complete and clear communication is necessary, which can be difficult to achieve and therefore, limiting for this type of organizing.” When Dr. Despain added that a breakdown in communication could lead to assumed consent (in response to silence or otherwise), I realized that the question needed to be pursued further. I asked about potential red flags that anyone entering a space -- theatrical, activist, or otherwise -- should take as cues to remain vigilant. Her response was almost immediate:
“Any hierarchy that pretends to be non-hierarchical is a trap. Any system where we refuse to recognize the humanity and the failings of the leaders. And that’s on the leader, not necessarily on the participants. [...] It means people aren’t contributing, they’re being dragged along for the ride. And then that means that when there is dissent, it gets subsumed under the will of the leader. [...] It means that when it pops up later, the leader goes, ‘well, why didn’t you bring that up earlier? We’re not hierarchical. This is consensus-building, you should have said something!’ But when it feels like there are negative consequences for disagreeing with leadership [...] people aren’t gonna speak up.”
What do we watch out for in our leaders?
“A resistance to accountability. All of us have an initial defensive impulse when we receive critique of any kind, and part of the work is, of course, finding a way to offer critique without inspiring [defensiveness], and also figuring out how to receive it. Someone is telling me I left my headlights on. They’re not saying I’m a bad person, they’re saying I left my headlights on. This is a lifelong process for everyone, learning to accept it that way. But if I haven’t seen any evidence that you’ve at least committed to trying to do that work, that’s a red flag.”
At this, Aguilera added that in a true non-hierarchical structure, “diversity in thinking needs to be welcomed.” To me, this means questioning… and returns us to the necessity of dissent. Again: dissent, not fights. A disagreement can be blunt, even vitriolic, but fights will poison the dynamic of the group.
“So the key is,” Dr. Despain says, “to create an environment where creative problem solving and collaboration are encouraged, and [give] space for everyone to speak.”
The General Utility of Theatre of the Oppressed
Theatre of the Oppressed refers to a grouping of theatrical forms first created in the ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s by Augusto Boal, a Brazilian dramatist, activist, and pedagogue. His theories were heavily influenced by Paulo Freire and his Pedagogy of the Oppressed. All forms -- image theatre, forum theatre, legislative theatre, newspaper theatre, invisible theatre, etc. -- are fully interactive, with the ultimate objective of making active participants out of what would be audience members. This is reflected in the terminology; all involved in the undertaking are referred to as “spect-actors”, with the exception of the “joker”, or the facilitator, who is a completely neutral guide and is not permitted to comment on the proceedings. As the name suggests, these techniques were formulated as a means to address social ills while giving agency to those involved, and ensembles that practice Theatre of the Oppressed are meant to be democratic and non-hierarchical.
For this reason, consensus-building is a regular practice for those ensembles, including that of the Outcast Theatre Collective, to which Cornelio Aguilera, Dr. Clareann Despain, and I all belong. The manner in which discussions are conducted in spaces like these could serve as an example of successful discursive cooperation.
“Something that I love about consensus building with TOTO [Theatre of the Oppressed] is that a space set aside for theatrical rehearsal is often already an environment where creative problem-solving and collaboration is encouraged. Theatre people are trained to collaborate and love to help solve problems,” Dr. Despain points out. It’s absolutely true; if theatre companies had fights within their membership with the same vitriol and regularity that many leftist activists do, no plays would ever be produced.
“There is an attempt at establishing an equal weight to all the participants that make up the group,” Aguilera tells me. “It is made up of an understanding that we each are responsible for making up our part of the puzzle, and [this] helps us depend on one another to deliver that piece in order for the picture we are presenting to succeed. This focus on the final creation is what drives us to work together and I believe it helps us work past any other distractions.”
Collective focus can only be achieved with stalwart cooperation… and collective focus is necessary to achieve collective objectives.
What about the other utilities of Theatre of the Oppressed?
Both Cornelio Aguilera’s and Dr. Clareann Despain’s answers share a common, recurring theme: empathy and critical thinking.
“We have a tendency to rely on our words and communication more heavily than the impulses and feelings that can be conjured up more quickly and effectively when working around an issue,” Aguilera muses. “Boal’s work shows us the difference between working from the head instead of the heart, and helps us find a way to reverse that in order to better understand oppressive experiences we have/may have/will live through.”
I can tell you from experience that this process can be a difficult one. It’s a challenge to shift from cerebral, constructed language to unfiltered honesty. It’s akin to removing all consonants and being left with only vowels to communicate. But as alien as that mode is to us, it is freeing to identify and unlearn certain constructions that we’ve absorbed as means to create distance from the full weight of truth. From Dr. Despain:
“Something that’s deeply profound about Theatre of the Oppressed is the way it is designed to de-mechanize the body. We’re efficiency machines. Whenever they can, our bodies find the way of doing what we need them to do and then find the most efficient way of doing it and then stick to it. What we don’t always understand is the ways in which that mechanizes our physical responses to everything. Of course, it’s not just biological efficiency that dictates this mechanization. We are socialized to present our bodies certain ways and to move them in certain ways. We discipline children who wiggle too much in public, we stare at the person on the subway who hasn’t mastered sitting silently still [...] Our bodies are disciplined in ways we don’t even realize. Boal calls the way we internalize these restrictions the “Cops in the Head;” Foucault [...] talks about panopticism. Boal’s techniques force us to explore the possibilities of the body in ways we haven’t since we were children. [...] Through those explorations we can recognize the ways in which our physicality is constrained by physical and social forces. It’s incredibly exciting work because it perfectly sets up the process of decolonizing the mind. As part of the body, the mind benefits from the physical freedoms explored by Boal. In addition, by beginning with physical examples of the impacts of the “Cops in the Head,” Boal’s exercises prime us to examine the way social forces contain our behavior on a psychological level. This opens us up to examine privilege in new ways.”
We return then, to the examination of privilege, and in a way, to the spaces that purport to be non-hierarchical but are not. Is it possible for a group to operate non-hierarchically, even anarchistically, without reckoning with the politics of identity? Is it really acceptable to claim that you work to end hierarchies if you ignore the ways in which privilege operates in your own house?
“I think activist spaces and [Theatre of the Oppressed] are trying to solve similar issues,” Dr. Despain says. “We’re all coming at it from a variety of angles which I think is valuable. [...] We cannot confront oppression if we don’t acknowledge how privilege is bound up in identity. [...] In order for consensus building to bend toward social justice, it means that the spaces it's operating in must be diverse and non-hierarchical. Non-hierarchical doesn’t work if participants can’t acknowledge their privilege and the way it impacts interactions. Even when we’re explicitly attempting to be non-hierarchical, the fact is that the power dynamics created by systemic racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, fatphobia, etc. still influence all of our interactions. It’s important to be aware of those things and explicitly acknowledge them. Conscientious consensus building, then, demands that these issues be a part of the conversation as we establish our priorities.”
Theatre of the Oppressed, particularly forum theatre, has a penchant for providing clear scenarios in which observers can more easily discern and name privilege. Could this be an effective approach to teaching leftists that these forces are not just existent, but powerful? Dr. Despain thinks so.
“Theatre of the Oppressed may not be able to change the minds of people who hold extremist views -- although, we have to be open to that possibility -- but Theatre of the Oppressed is really great for encouraging people who perhaps haven’t encountered the question of privilege, [...] and having people experience what it might be like to not have it, and then deconstructing it.”
Recognition of these systemic obstacles and malignancies is compulsory if we want to achieve true freedom from hierarchical hegemony, but Dr. Despain cautions that this, like everything else, requires patience:
“We’ve got to remember that no one thing -- no one event, no one experience, is going to be the thing that takes somebody ‘all the way,’ because there’s no one place for people with privilege to arrive.”
Final Thoughts
There will never be one answer to how our work should be done. The suggestions proposed here do not reflect a belief on my part that they are either easy to adopt or effective in any or all spaces. I do, however, believe that the tactics suggested here -- both consensus-building as a collective decision-making process as well as utilizing Theatre of the Oppressed in a more general sense -- are at least worth attempting when possible.
I also want to repeat emphatically that my suggestion of consensus-building over voting is not a prescription for ending in-fighting, but one possible method for conducting it. The suppression of dissent is just another flavor of imposing an hierarchy of ideas. Dr. Despain sums up my reasoning succinctly: “Any process that ensures that everyone has a say is good for activist spaces, especially since so many coalitions are comprised of people who have been silenced.”
Silencing disagreement in the name of cooperating towards some greater good causes more problems in the long run. It’s misguided at best and manipulative at worst. It’s the same mentality that leads people to lament that the great tragedy of this moment is “divisiveness”, and not, “there are fucking Nazis out in broad daylight with the faces G_d gave them because they’re unafraid of consequences.”
I think as activists on the left (I’m not capitalizing that because I don’t believe in some monolithic “Leftism”), it would behoove us at all times--but especially this one-- to keep at the forefront of our minds Paulo Freire’s four dialogical actions set forth in Pedagogy of the Oppressed: unity, compassion, organization, and cultural synthesis.
Finally, Theatre of the Oppressed, more than anything else, is about recognizing and respecting the humanity in all people-- the absolute fullness of that humanity. I close with Cornelio Aguilera’s reminder during our discussions:
“We have to remember, these ‘antagonists,’ as we’ve been discussing them, are also us. Part of the conversation is recognizing when we become them. It’s not simply us against them-- They are us sometimes. [...] It goes back to being able to use this, not just for folks who we think need it, but for ourselves. ‘Cause we’re all gonna fall down.”
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