Direct Action Beats a Boycott Every Time

Recently, the idea of boycotts has become popular. It is, of course, not an unusual idea. Some might say that America was built on a foundation of boycott, as the Sons of Liberty call for a boycott of British goods and services in 1774 led to the formation of the first Continental Congress and, in turn, the American Revolution. The boycott is a political tool that, depending on the time and circumstance, falls in and out of fashion. Whether broad, such a Sons-style rejection of an entire empire’s imports, or small, like the time I refused to go to a certain big box home improvement store because I felt misled, boycotts remain favored leverage among those that feel disenfranchised.

But here is the thing, I’m not sure they work. Not the way they are supposed to.

Boycotts, in my experience, rarely work as intended. Initially devised as a methodology for the ignored, unseen, or otherwise downtrodden to exert a little power against whomever they have labeled the Big Bad, I feel only the most exceptionally organized and sweeping ever have any real impact. Boycotts allow the boycotter to feel good about taking action. Those being boycotted against have usually already secured the upper hand. For them, most boycotts – particularly those mounted by individuals – are inconvenient rather than damaging. I’m quite sure my aforementioned retail revolution did not register at all. Nobody cared where I bought my next gallon of paint, just as the Soviet Union carried on when the United States boycotted the 1980 Summer Olympics. In both cases, it was understood that a stand had been taken, but neither had much of an effect in the long run.

So, the question becomes how can those that are not dealing from a position or power affect change? What methodology can be employed to ensure that even the smallest fish in the largest ponds can be heard and acknowledged?

It’s an idea I’ve often struggled with. While I’ve long enjoyed the pulpit being a writer affords, I also understand that offering my insights rarely goes far in terms of winning the hearts and minds of those who may not share my opinions. A mind made up is notoriously difficult to change. In fact, I would not be surprised if eager boycotters haven’t already tuned me out.

So, what do we do and where do we turn when the need to facilitate change, as is our right and privilege, necessitates action.

I, personally, take my inspiration from Carey Ross, an exceptional writer, activist, intellect and – most significantly – friend of many years. She and I were exchanging texts not so very long ago and she said her rule of thumb for escaping the morass of good intentions is to reverse engineer the solution.

She said instead of asking, “What can I do?” the things to ask are “Who am I trying to help?” and “What do they most need?”

“When you work from yourself outward, the horizon is so cluttered that it can be hard to see,” she said. “But when you work from the vantage point of who you are trying to help, the path often becomes clear.”

Often, that means direct contact with those empowered to offer assistance and aid. It’s an important component of our democracy that often goes overlooked. We have access to the corridors of power. There are no unlisted numbers allowed for those who choose public service or politics – which are not always the same.

My favorite source for these contacts is a free app called 5 Call. While it does operate under its own political agenda, offering scripts for issues it considers vital, I find easy access to the offices of those that represent us directly. An email is easy to ignore, and boycotts are too often toothless. But a phone call to a person – certainly an assistant but also someone obligated to take note of your call, has impact. My advice is to be prepared, succinct, polite and focused. Your lone opinion may not sway policy, but understanding how the voting constituents think, and recognizing the passion and, sometimes, courage required to speak to a person, carries weight.

I promise you; it beats a boycott.