What if staying human is one of the most powerful and most unappreciated forms of resistance? Shaping tomorrow and defeating tyranny takes more than big protest events and macro strategies.
Tell ignorant folks to cease using substack for lemmy instead. It's inexcusable at this point.
Essay:
Stay Human: 80 Tiny Moves for Everyday Resistance in the Authoritarian Harm Complex
What if staying human is one of the most powerful and most unappreciated forms of resistance? Shaping tomorrow and defeating tyranny takes more than big protest events and macro strategies.
Paul T Shattuck, MSW, PhD's APR 12, 2025
Some days I feel completely stuck. I stare out the window. I scroll past headlines I can't absorb yet can't tear myself away from. Tasks pile up. My sense of direction vanishes. That frozen feeling of disorientation, fatigue, ambient anxiety, and internal pressure to move without knowing where to start is one of the most common downstream effects of what I've called the Authoritarian Harm Complex. It's what happens when your nervous system, purpose, relationships, safety, and work all get hit at once.
A second weight sits atop the harm: the steady stream of messaging about what resistance is supposed to look like. That curated ideal of constant action, relentless urgency, and public-facing bravery. I've spent years in movement spaces and know how vital collective action is. But most of us aren't full-time organizers. We're trying to stay human inside a system we depend on that is being ransacked and torn apart.
When our diminished capacity doesn't match the movement’s ideal expectations flooding our feeds, it deepens the stuckness and can turn survival into self-blame. For some, there's an added fear that showing up imperfectly may lead to judgment or rejection from those we hoped to stand beside.
That’s why I started collecting tiny moves. Not as a replacement for larger strategies, but as a way to keep going when the big strategies feel out of reach. When the trail disappears, these are the footholds I return to.
Many of these came out of the lived experience of myself, colleagues, friends and the community organizations and leaders I consult with. Some were adapted from conversations with readers. Others emerged through teaching, organizing, reflection, or reading. This list is emergent, not closed.
Tiny Moves for Strategic Agility, Integrity, and Survival
These are starting points. Each one is a small, doable action that can help you interrupt the spiral, regain a sense of direction, and stay connected to what matters.
Start anywhere. Just pick something that meets you where you are. Then try another tomorrow. Or not. This isn't a performance. It's an invitation to explore and experiment. It’s an offering to prime the pump of your own creative capacities.
PLEASE SHARE with others
Name what still matters. Speak it out loud or write it down.
Take a no-scroll hour. Just be where you are.
Text someone: “Thinking of you. No pressure.” Start small.
Make a “don’t adapt to this” list. Keep it visible.
[OH HI🖕 FASHSTACK, YOU ARE IN THIS LIST!]
Cancel one nonessential task. Let the gap be restorative.
Start a shared doc called “What We Still Believe.” Invite a few trusted people.
Buy a banned book. Read it. Lend it. Talk about it.
Choose one task that aligns with your values. Do that first.
Unfollow one source that fuels distortion. Even if it’s “on your side.”
Say, “I’m not sure yet.” Let it be a position, not a weakness.
Keep a screenshot folder called “I’m not imagining this.” Fill it when needed.
Make a timeline of your moral clarity. Track what’s stayed true.
Resist the pressure to summarize. Let complexity stand without apology.
Put something old to new use. Let continuity be an act of care.
Show up somewhere you’ve been avoiding. Say little. Be there anyway.
Read one account from a community you’re not part of. Let it complicate your map.
Write a future memory you want to make real. Give your imagination something to reach for.
Start a Sunday ritual that feels like continuity. Repetition can be resistance.
Create a shared photo album called “We’re Still Here.” Make survival visible.
Offer someone a microgrant or cash gift—if you can. Mutual aid doesn’t have to be big to be real.
Repair something small that you’ve been neglecting. Restoration is a form of presence.
Say “I’m protecting my energy” instead of making excuses. Claim your boundaries out loud.
Name what feels like home—and who’s not safe there yet. Let that gap guide your commitments.
Record your voice reading something that matters. Save it for yourself or someone else.
Say no to urgency once. Let it pass without chasing it.
Look for the helpers—and thank them out loud. Gratitude keeps the connective tissue alive.
Resist cynicism in one interaction. Stay real, not performative.
Make or update your will. That’s a move too—toward clarity and care.
Give someone permission to grieve without explaining. Make space for what can’t be fixed.
Watch how you speak to yourself. Say one kinder thing.
Reconnect with someone you drifted from. No explanation needed—just begin again.
Let something take time on purpose. Signal to yourself that not everything needs to be fast.
The Soul of Strategy
These tiny moves are strategy at a human scale, not a detour from “real” strategy. They are especially useful when the terrain is unstable and the old maps no longer work. When you’re bushwhacking through authoritarian chaos, you don’t need a five-year plan. You need a way to keep your footing amidst daily assaults. These moves are how we stay in motion, with integrity, when the conditions are designed to disorient us. They don't require permission, perfection, or a platform.
This work is about more than survival. It's about building the moral and emotional infrastructure to stay human together for the long haul. The path forward may not be marked, but we are not lost. With each act of discernment, connection, repair, and refusal, we're shaping the future. Step by step, we're moving toward something more rooted, more humane. Maybe even something that feels like a home and not just a refuge from harm — a foundation for belonging, care, and repair.
Where This Work Leads
This blog is part of a larger project called Progressive Strategy Now which is more than just my blog’s title. It is my attempt to meet the moment, a growing collection of resources and consultation to help mission-driven people and organizations stay human and stay strategic while navigating moral injury, institutional destruction, and the lived realities of authoritarian harm. If this post gave you words for something you’ve been carrying, you’re in the right place. This is one dispatch in an ongoing series.