COLUMN: Beyoncé’s pregnancy belies flaws in activism
Beyoncé is pregnant, and the world has erupted. The artist’s announcement on Instagram broke the record for most-liked post, while 500,000 tweets were sent out regarding this news within 45 minutes. The public’s reaction is indeed indicative of the loyal fanbase — with its constant, bursting admiration — that the popstar has built since her rise to fame in the late 1990s. While the Beyhive buzzes, I’m left confounded once again.
Although I’m not a fan of Beyoncé’s music, simply out of musical preference, I have tried to gain an appreciation for the artist in recent years as she’s taken on weightier themes, such as black empowerment and feminism. Her latest visual album Lemonade addresses police brutality, black identity and marital woes in a package that neither speaks softly nor rests on visual tropes. Lemonade has all the makings of a potentially transformative and refreshingly subversive piece of art. But its impact — like Beyoncé’s activism in general — is limited.
Her work suffers from the malignant capitalist pursuit to which it is bound. Underneath the choreography, one discovers a predictable consumerist formula dressed up as radical empowerment. Make no mistake, Bey wants your money. In the song “Formation” from Lemonade, she intersperses consumerist, self-aggrandizing lyrics about “paper” being the “best revenge” and becoming “a black Bill Gates,” with lyrics that celebrate blackness. Beyoncé’s claim that freedom lies in maximizing wealth ultimately erodes a concurrent, positive narrative of black empowerment.
Beyoncé’s activism is, first and foremost, an act of branding intended to raise her public image and personal wealth. Take a look at her sparsely populated Twitter feed and you’ll find a post from 2013 promoting World Humanitarian Day. She wrote, “Today is World Humanitarian Day. Another day to #Beygood #TheWorldNeedsMore.” The hashtag #Beygood is one example of how the singer subtly uses activism as a means of self-promotion. Until Beyoncé removes herself from the system that has thrived on the subjugation of black bodies, her advocacy, whether on Twitter or in her music, will continue to resound with a hollow beat.
Moreover, activism — from celebrities or students — effectively loses all meaning when performed out of self-interest. The presidential election and the consequent surge of student activism have forced me to reflect on both my personal motivations and the motivations of my peers. Are we compelled to march and chant because we want to be a part of a trend, or are we seriously invested in fighting for actual change? Are we more concerned about our resumes and reputations than making real sacrifices for a cause outside ourselves?
I can only imagine what change might emerge if the kind of zeal for Beyoncé’s pregnancy announcement were directed toward something desperately in need of our attention.
We live in a time during which we are bombarded with information and must make decisions as to how we consume that information and what we do with that knowledge. Turning knowledge into action is a task certainly encumbered by the seduction of news intended to grab our wallets rather than to motivate anything consequential.
If we accept celebrities as activists, we must be prepared to be critical. Liking an artist’s music is not justification for praising their every move and offering our unqualified support. Idolization breeds blindness. Now, more than ever, we need to keep our eyes open and be willing to challenge the systems that have brought us to the present — a world filled with unmitigated human suffering, ravaged by the neoliberal agendas we have left unchecked.
With hope, I look forward to the day when human suffering garners more attention than a celebrity’s Instagram. In the meantime, don’t sting me, hive.
Bailee Ahern is a senior majoring in political science and international relations. Her column, “Vis-à-Vis,” runs every other Monday.