Somewhere between 2016 and now, we collectively decided that being kind meant being weak, and that having empathy was actually performative. That the only way to fight for what’s right was to become exactly as cruel as the systems we’re fighting against. The internet has turned us all into verbal gladiators, ready to draw blood at the first whiff of a bad take.
I’ve been there myself – twelve-year-old me was absolutely feral in the RuPaul’s Drag Race forums, and I’m still recovering from my copaganda phase where I thought every disagreement needed a cross-examination worthy of Olivia Benson and hadn’t quite realized there’s no fighting the system from within yet.
That competitive, morality-policing culture is exhausting. More importantly, it’s not working.
Why Empathy Actually Makes You a Better Activist
Picture this: You’re scrolling through Twitter (I’m never calling it X), and you see someone post something false about trans people. Your fingers are already flying, ready to quote tweet them into oblivion. But wait.
What if – and hear me out – that person actually doesn’t know queer history? What if they’ve only been exposed to mainstream media narratives? What if your quote tweet, while a satisfying dunk in the moment, actually pushes someone who could’ve become an ally further away from understanding?
Empathy in activism doesn’t mean we start coddling bigots or tolerating intolerance. It means that we recognize that most people aren’t cartoon villains twirling their mustaches while plotting oppression against others. They’re humans operating with incomplete information, cultural conditioning, and their own trauma responses.
When we approach activism with empathy first, we can:
Create space for people to learn and grow.
Build sustainable movements that don’t burn everyone out.
Actually change minds instead of just scoring internet points.
Model the world we want to see (you know, one where people treat each other with basic dignity).
It’s easier said than done, sure, but it is the furthest thing from impossible.
The Lost Art of the Firm But Fair Conversation
Okay, so how do we have difficult conversations without either becoming doormats or verbal assassins?
What I’ve learned from a decade of navigating fandom drama and political discourse is this:
Set boundaries, not bear traps. You can say “That’s harmful and here’s why” without adding “and you’re garbage for thinking it.” The goal is education, not humiliation. Keep that in the front of your mind.
Use “I” statements even in political contexts. “I’ve learned that this perspective ignores X history” hits differently for most people, rather than “You’re ignorant about X.” Same information, wildly different reception.
Know when to tap out. Some people aren’t arguing in good faith. Some are just there to waste your energy – and some aren’t even real. You’re not obligated to educate every troll on the internet. The block and mute buttons are your best friends. Your mental health comes first.
Lead with curiosity when possible. “Help me understand why you think that” can open doors that “You’re wrong and here’s why” slams shut. (This doesn’t apply to obvious hate speech – please don’t ask Nazis to explain themselves.)
Protecting Yourself While Fighting the Good Fight
Political engagement, especially online, can feel like voluntarily walking into a psychological thunderdome.
Here’s how I protect my peace while still showing up for my communities and marginalized communities overall:
Curate your feeds ruthlessly. Follow accounts that inform and inspire you, not ones that make you feel constantly enraged or hopeless. Doom-scrolling is just digital self-harm.
Set engagement hours. Just like you wouldn’t work 24/7 at a regular job, you shouldn’t be “on” as an activist 24/7. I have specific times I engage with heavy content and specific times I watch House of the Dragon theories and pretend the world isn’t on fire.
Find your people. Solo activism is a fast track to burnout. Find communities (online or IRL) where you can process, vent, and strategize together. Bonus points if they’re also in your fandoms – nothing bonds people like shared trauma AND shared ships.
Remember that rest is revolutionary. Capitalism wants you exhausted. Fascism thrives on despair. Taking care of yourself is a radical act of resistance in this day and age.
Making Kindness Cool in Fandom Spaces
Fandoms have always been political, but somewhere along the way, we forgot that these spaces were supposed to be refuges for the weird kids. Now they’re often more toxic than the comment section of a political news article.
Here’s my thoughts on how we fix it:
Normalize changing your mind. Share when you’ve grown or learned something new. “Hey, I used to think X but then I learned Y” is the smartest behavior a person can exhibit.
Accept complexity. Not everything is black and white. You can love a show while still critiquing its problems. Nuance isn’t centrism. Centrism is a deliberate alignment with moderate-to-right-leaning policies. Stanning an actor for their performances while still acknowledging their mistakes is not abandoning the struggle of the working class.
Call in before you call out. If someone in your fandom says something questionable, try a DM before a public dragging. Most people respond better to private conversations than public humiliation, and assuming the best instead of jumping to the worst is always a good practice when there isn’t irrefutable evidence.
Make joy political. Creating spaces where marginalized fans can exist and be loud, proud, and happy is a great place to start for those first branching into advocacy work. Everyone deserves to feel comfortable enough to make their voices heard.
The Bottom Line
The revolution will not be won by whoever can craft the sickest burn. It’ll be won by people who can build coalitions, change minds, and sustain movements without destroying themselves in the process.
Kindness isn’t weakness. Nor does it mean passiveness in the face of bigotry. Choosing to engage with compassion while maintaining firm boundaries is not a naive thing to do. It should be the norm.
We’re trying to build a better world, right? Then we should start acting like the people we want to see in that world. Let’s make kindness cool again. Let’s show people that you can be passionate, political, and angry about injustice while still treating people like human beings capable of growth and learning.
At the end of the day, we’re all looking for community, trying to make sense of a broken world while holding onto the things that bring us joy.
If that’s not worth being kind for, I don’t know what is.
What do you think? How do you balance kindness with conviction in your online spaces? Drop a comment below – I promise to respond with empathy, even if you disagree with me. 😉
