Do 'Clicktivism' and the Online Petition Really Go Too Far?

Clicktivism. It has a great ring to it, no? It says everything about our online culture these days where just about anything can be accomplished with enough single, willing clicks – including the viral success of an online petition.

Micah White, the well-known activist and former editor of Adbusters, first enlightened us to this issue in 2010 with his controversial article on the insidious petitions that are said to now populate the Internet. Petitions like that half-page appeal a friend sends you that urges more government money for Ebola treatment, or the letter demanding banks stop increased charges to checking accounts. For some, clicktivism represents a growing apathy in American social life -- an erosion not only of activism, but of core values.

“Gone is faith in the power of ideas, or the poetry of deeds, to enact social change,” White says. Petitions are pushed out now in the thousands to tens of thousands. “[Subject] lines are A/B tested and messages vetted for widest appeal.”

But the truth is: While the system for inspiring social action has changed, the concept – or the problem, depending on how you look at it – is still the same. Clicktivism isn’t revolutionary. It’s no more novel than online petitions are. They are both extensions of a time when carefully hand-typed, multi-page submissions filled a vital role in American community life.

At one time, paper petitions were a galvanizing force to local politics. They were also an educational mechanism for inspiring broader activism. They could change the composition of city council overnight, and spearhead state and federal investigations. They could make or break a politician’s career aspirations. And while they were only available in most cases for demonstrated registered voters, they spoke volumes about the citizens’ belief in a democratic system.

These days, petitions live largely behind Web addresses like Change.org, Care2.com and CredoAction.com, where average citizens can still take up an issue and galvanize a response. To critics, who have caught on to the fact that these organizations are funded and staffed by money-making entities, clicktivism -- aka the inspired amassing of millions of signatures -- is more a ruse than a social commentary. Nithin Coca makes his point on this by noting that the founder of Change.org earns money from each petition that is posted and has a net worth in the millions. According to Coca, Change.org gets its success by enlisting – and charging – nonprofits and others that post petitions on its site. Most of those petitions, he notes, are simple, “little big issues” that readers can wrap their minds around. They aren’t things, he says, that are going to change the world in enormous ways.

“I don't need to tell you the world is facing huge challenges at the moment: Syria, Gaza, climate change, Tibet. Then go to Change.org. You won't find many of these issues on there,” Coca says.

To be fair: You will now. Petitions on Change.org, as Coca notes, are mind-boggling in coverage. And they do address topics as complex and life-changing as peace in Syria and Gaza, climate change policies, and human rights in Tibet.

But as White notes, they also are remarkably discerning as to what a reader will click on. The petitions that have been sent to me seem to know me like a book (and if you haven’t figured this out, I have signed a few petitions; I have also rejected a few as well). They appeal to not only the human element of their cause but also what will best make me writhe with concern. And for the most part, they don’t include topics that might either offend me or be so far outside of my circle of concern as to appear inappropriate.

And that is where critics may have a point. Those who sign online petitions out of conviction (and I believe most do), believe that their electronic signature is making a difference. Where it gets a bit uncomfortable is when one finds that petitions they wouldn’t endorse are being posted on the site at the same time. Sponsors – whether by the almighty dollar or the electronic signature – like to feel that the organization that is getting their signature actually identifies with their values. Signing one’s name for humanitarian and social causes may be a business for some, but it isn’t a business for the average supporter.

To get Change.org's side of things, I reached out to its founder, Ben Rattray, with an interview request. I received a nice letter from Change.org with a promise to forward on the request. Neither Rattray nor his communications team replied to my two requests.

But that’s fair as well. Critics are quick to condemn clicktivism as a deceptive symptom of our Internet age. They ask: Why should businesses be able to make money by helping nonprofits raise money and signatures? But by the same token, why should companies that make vaccines or provide transport for medical supplies be able to make a profit? Why should doctors be able to run successful businesses and own large houses?

We may be uncomfortable with the concept of clicktivism, but its advent has touched communities large and small. Defeating pink slime (temporarily) is far from its greatest accomplishment. It’s had a voice in Egypt, in Syrian human rights, in healthcare management, and most decidedly in the fair and transparent operation of U.S. court systems. Like the old paper petition, clicktivism is a sign of the times -- and today’s best evidence that democratic values are still at work.

Image credit: Change.org