It’s not just the “Just Stop Oil” activists — climate change protesters have been targeting art work, art galleries, museums, their patrons and their employees all summer, to raise awareness for climate change. They slop soup on a Van Gogh or glue their hands to a Botticelli and then tell the world it’s to wake them up to “discuss” climate change.
But this is a discussion has been going on since before The Middlebrow was born. Nobody needs to wreck a Rembrandt (or somebody’s experience of seeing one) to start a discussion that’s many decades old. What these activists mean is not that we have a discussion, but that the world has to do what they say. It’s not a debate that these people want, it’s to deliver a lecture and to be obeyed. What is so difficult for some climate change activists is that there is a multiplicity of views on the topic — not so much about whether manmade climate change is real or whether its effects need to be monitored and mitigated — but in how to address our climate impact against often competing priorities.
It’s a discussion where a lot of people from across society throw in their ideas. People’s priorities and desires differ. People will not accept the sacrifices of an abrupt transition from fossil fuels to alternatives. That has to be part of the discussion. What risks are we willing to take on nuclear? Is natural gas “green?” What do we do about parts of the world that need coal right now? Is China part of the discussion? Is my electric vehicle environmentally friendly if you factor in the strain it puts on the local power grids wherever I decide to drive it? These are just a few questions that might be asked. In a discussion. Which is not what the activists want at all.
Here’s a defense of the “Just Stop Oil” protesters, published in The Guardian (Middlebrow’s bolding):
“People need to listen to the activists – there’s plenty of videos explaining why they are taking specific actions and they knew they wouldn’t harm the painting. A lot of public outrage online grows arms and legs and moves further away from what the activists are saying. I wish more people could understand that climate justice is bigger than public opinion. You don’t have to like them or their tactics, but you do have to listen to them. You and your children are facing a catastrophe like we’ve never seen.” - Fiona, 33, Glasgow, waitress
This is the implict argument of all activists — my issue is more important than whatever you happen to be doing right now. In 2015 and then again in 2020, Black Lives Matter protesters targeted brunch spots in major cities, attempting to stage a direct question, “Do you want to fight for black lives or Benedicts?” How can your brunch really be more important than mass incerceration and and recist police? Similarly, speak out against the posh soup sloppers of London’s art world and people will demand, “how can you value this painting more than the coming mass extinction that climate change will cause?”
Every protester is the hero of their own tale, no matter what they are protesting. You’ll hear similar claims of personal idealism and pure motivations from protesters outside of medical facilities that perform abortions or, as we saw in the last presidential election in the United States, protesters who try to undo elections and overthrow the government. People generally believe they are doing right, even when they are doing wrong.
What all of these protesters have in common is the desire to make decisions for other people. That arrogance is fundamental to how they defend their actions, specifically with the claim that the art work was never at any risk and then with their disregard for the people affected by their actions.
The paintings are not harmed in any way, they say. The protests are meant to shock but the art work is protected in its frame and safe from harm. They would never do this to an exposed canvas work or sculpture.
Somehow, in all the coverage, nobody questions the activists on this point. The first question, of course, is why should we believe them when they say they will only go so far? If there are limits, we will only know if they are never crossed.
Another question, as important, is how are these people qualified to know which works can and cannot be harmed? Are they expert art preservationists? We know how museums and galleries treat their art. There are all sorts of restrictions about how close patrons should get, whether they can eat or drink, or whether they can use flashes for photography. The National Gallery cordons off the work, delineating acceptable distance between the art and its gazer. Presumably, these rules were considered by experts and have been informed by experience. If the staff at The National Gallery says it’s best for the art if people keep a few feet of distance, then it’s hard to imagine they condone tossing soup at it, whether the work is framed or not.
It’s hard to imagine the protester’s promise that the art was never in any danger should be taken any more seriously than a parents takes a child’s assurance that jumping on the bed will lead to no harm to either the child or the bed.
Indeed, The National Gallery says there was “minor damage” to the frame, which implies the protesters miscalculated. And who had to attend to this damage? Who had to clean up the soup and fix the frame and inspect the painting at the expense of their other tasks and goals for the day? We hear nothing for the professionals put out by these antics. What if security guards are disciplined or fired for letting this happen in the first place? Will the protesters do anything for them?
We also have to ask about the National Galley patrons, who had their experiences disrupted. We don’t hear about them at all. Was it anyone’s first time to the museum? Perhaps somebody’s only time? Will “Just Stop Oil” compensate people for ruined experiences?
A final note: “Just Stop Oil” counts Aileen Getty among its financial backers. Aileen is a trust fund baby from the Getty family, which made its fortune in, of course, oil. Those born rich can demand large stages for their family dramas. The Middlebrow assumes her activism is genuine and this isn’t some stunt to make environmentalists look stupid, but also wonders why the soup and glue is confined to Europe while the family collection of art at The Getty in Los Angeles goes unmolested.
The admonition against criticism here is that to fret about the artwork, the museum workers or the patrons is to demand “civility” when only civil disobedience will do. But in these self-entitled protests, The Middlebrow sees less Henry David Thoreau than Sigmund Freud’s Civilization and its Discontents. Since the meds obviously aren’t working, I suggest deep therapy.