The Paradox of Progress

I want to spend some time today considering something we have all experienced- whether in our daily lives, through our work, or when we engage with political forces as human rights defenders. It’s a subtle but powerful tension that underpins our advocacy – especially efforts rooted in the fight for justice and liberation, as our work is. It’s the ongoing dance between the vision and hopes of individuals and the machinery of bureaucracy that is constructed to support the pursuit of these very ideals.

This is a dance we all learn to navigate as we try to build a better future. I recognise that we all bring forward very different lived experiences to our work. I am also aware that Kaleidoscope Trust’s struggles pale in comparison to the realities many LGBTI+ activists and human rights defenders face every day, but let me share a story many of us will recognise.

A young activist joins a national LGBTI+ rights organisation or a government advisory group. At first, they’re energised by the mission, whether it be fighting for trans healthcare access or pushing back against discriminatory laws. They show up to calls, no matter how late they happen to be; they attend and contribute to strategy meetings; they may even take on a leadership role, join a working group, or put their physical safety on the line by providing frontline services or protesting at a time when our community is increasingly under attack.

As we all do, this person believes in collective power. But over time, they begin to notice a shift within themselves.

It starts to feel as though decisions are being made from the top down. Priorities can seem unclear, and external impact even more so. Feedback is acknowledged, but rarely acted upon. Repeated attempts to communicate are met with polite nods.

What once felt like a movement begins to feel like a machine.

But this story isn’t about bad intentions.

This is what Max Weber would have recognised as the double-edged sword of bureaucracy. In his view, a bureaucracy is defined by its inherent structure, professional expertise, and impersonality- all features that are necessary for efficient governance. But, Weber also cautioned against the “iron cage”, where bureaucratic systems trap individuals and ideals in a web of procedures, strategies, frameworks, and regulations- stifling the very freedom and values they were meant to support. 

How many of us have found ourselves caught in this cage: with our idealism slowly filtered through formalised channels, our agency subdued by the weight of process, and yet tangible outcomes always feeling just out of reach?

In this story, we don’t lose faith in structures and organisations because people are unkind or have bad intentions. We lose faith because the structures have become impermeable- and the urgency of the vision we have all come together to fight for, seems to have been forgotten.

On the other hand, Woodrow Wilson’s argument has some appeal: “People should shape the vision, but professionals should run the show.” Expertise can be a safeguard against chaos and, at a time when ‘expertise’ is often met with cynicism or suspicion, that’s a reassuring harbour. But when the “professionals” are the only ones steering the ship, we run the risk of feeling like passengers instead of pilots who are not only capable of but responsible for charting our own path.

An expert-led vision carries a real risk. When an organisation becomes too autonomous or opaque, the gap between us and decision-makers widens. What began as protection from chaos turns into a barrier to participation.

So how do we navigate this tension? How do we resolve this paradox?

I know this first-hand. Trust me, I didn’t dream of governance! 

I started with a cause, not a career – as a climate activist protesting the G20 in 2009, with democracy activists involved in the Arab Spring, and with youth human rights defenders in hostile regimes. In these places, bureaucracy could put lives at risk. But along the way, I learned that activism and organising require a level of structure, strategy and process to be effective. With scarce resources or enormous personal cost – when people’s lives are on the line – we cannot afford to channel our energies in the wrong direction. 

And now, as a CEO, I lead an organisation that requires bureaucracy – to make sure people are protected, that the charity is governed well, and we’re trusted by our governmental partners. It’s essential; but it’s not our driving purpose.

We need bureaucracy to hold our movement together. But we also need collective action to give it life.

It is with this spirit that we’re approaching the Global LGBTI+ Rights Commission. While KT hosts the bureaucracy, our offer to the movement is the ability for anyone to contribute and help shape our collective strategy to counter the anti-rights movement. As our launch film says, “if it’s important enough for you to say it, it’s important enough for us to listen.” 

Our movement knows more than most that successful movements rely on visibility, inclusion, and the refusal to stand by and be silent. We want the Commission to foster the brightest ideas with the fewest barriers to participation.

We have heard the message loud and clear from our friends, our allies, and our partners, especially those fighting on the frontlines of the movement while living at the very margin of margins. In the face of the existential challenges we now face, we must be the architects and supporters of a global roadmap that meets the moment we find ourselves in.

This mission must be founded on structures that do not obscure but instead serve struggle, underpinned by systems that do not diminish but instead raise spirits, and where every voice, every story, has a place not just at the table, but at the very heart of the decisions and outcomes that will shape the free, safe, and equal world we are all working so hard to build.

Bureaucracy should support the mission, not become the mission.