I heard a story a few weeks ago that captured what, as a campaigner on the climate team, I should be aspiring to do. It goes like this:
Saul Alinsky, the activist and community organiser who campaigned to improve the lot of the poor, black, working-class in 1960s America, took on the Kodak Company in New York for refusing to hire black workers at its factory.
When for the umpteenth time bosses refused to give in to his demands, Alinsky decided on a new approach. He bought tickets for all of the seats in the front few rows at Rochester opera house, where the big cheeses at Kodak liked to hang out and entertain their friends. Beforehand, he invited the hundred or so workers scheduled to attend the concert to a pre-show banquet of baked beans.
The story goes that Kodak's bosses couldn't change their recruitment policy fast enough. The remarkable thing (although it makes the story a bit less funny) is that Alinsky's plan never actually came to fruition because the company caved in before the curtain rose.
While I'm not advocating colossal portions of baked beans as the new cutting edge campaign tool of choice, for me the story neatly captures what (I think) my job is about – to think of really creative ways to engage people so that they want to get involved, and in a way that those in power can't ignore.
A glance through history tells us that governments and corporations always need to be cajoled, prodded, embarrassed, green-custarded, and more often than not dragged out of their comfort zone to make changes for the better.
Of course, the first reaction of those on the receiving end is to try and dismiss protests as absurd and juvenile, or as silly stunts. But as many a seasoned campaigner will tell you, tactics that drive your opponent up the wall, however ridiculous, are usually the most effective.
Take Airplot, which my team mate Anna has spent many a long day working on. Reacting to the news that Greenpeace had bought a bit of his runway, a clearly annoyed Geoff Hoon predicted that the land would prove to be no more than a 'slight administrative difficulty'. But inside information tells us a slightly different story. According to our sources a team of lawyers at the Department for Transport have been desperately scouring law books and planning statutes to find out just how badly Airplot screws up their white elephant runway.
Frankly though, this should be the least of their worries. Over 40,000 people have now signed up to Airplot, and this number is rising fast. Every single one is determined that this runway will not be built. Together, we're going to use every campaigning trick in the book to make sure that it isn't. And if that doesn't work we could always take a leaf out of Saul Alinsky's book.
Geoff Hoon, you've been warned.
