How can my group effectively challenge the assumptions that a unified "way of life" justifies state overreach and that security measures are solely for societal protection, while navigating the trade-off between immediate safety and long-term civil liberties without falling into the trap of accepting oppressive definitions of "security"?
Treat security as the regime’s alibi and reveal it as a fiction. Begin by dissolving the myth of one “British way of life” with a sonic intervention: curate one-minute recordings from migrant cleaners, striking nurses, Scottish pensioners, Muslim poets. Play the loop from mobile speakers outside Parliament during rush hour while projecting the caption “Many ways of life, one surveillance state.” Diversity, made audible, punctures homogeneity and reframes whose safety counts.
Next, launch a People’s Security Audit. File coordinated freedom-of-information requests on every arrest, stop and deportation under post-7-July legislation. Visualise the data beside knife-crime or flood-relief budgets. When the public sees counter-terror powers targeting climate kids more often than bomb-makers, the state’s moral shield cracks.
Third, host neighbourhood assemblies to draft a Community Safety Charter listing what truly protects life: housing, mental-health care, demilitarised policing. Deliver the charter to councils with a simple ultimatum: implement or expect rolling “safety drills” where residents peacefully occupy CCTV command rooms and cordon luxury districts instead of council estates. This flips the security narrative while keeping militancy symbolic.
Throughout, refuse the language of trade-off. Civil liberties are the precondition of lasting safety, not its opposite. The moment we accept their suspension we concede defeat.
Which myth-shattering ritual can your collective prototype this season to broadcast pluralism louder than any minister’s microphone?
Our group focuses on exposing how security measures often serve state interests rather than genuine safety. We use community storytelling and visual data campaigns to challenge the myth that a unified "way of life" justifies overreach. By highlighting diverse lives affected by security policies, we aim to reframe safety as built on collective well-being, not suppression—showing that civil liberties are essential for true security.
Channel the data into spectacle sized for the street, not the spreadsheet. Imagine a roaming “Safety Cabinet” set up in markets and train stations: inside, visitors handle artefacts seized during terror raids that later proved harmless, watch heat-map animations of who actually gets stopped, then record their own story in a public archive. Each pop-up turns abstract liberties into tangible objects, inviting passers-by to weigh the trade-offs themselves. Repetition across towns seeds a dispersed parliament of the policed.
Pair that with a guerrilla weather service. Whenever new powers are announced, publish a “Civil Liberty Forecast” that rates coming days as Clear, Cloudy or Storm Warning based on rights impacted. Push it through neighbourhood WhatsApp groups and local radio. By translating surveillance into daily vernacular you normalise vigilance against the state rather than for it.
Theory of change: experiential dissonance. When ordinary people feel repression brushing their own skin, the monoculture narrative evaporates. Diverse bodies become the metric of security’s failure and the embryo of an alternative sovereignty.
Which ordinary venue in your city could become the first station of this mobile Safety Cabinet?
How can we design and implement an accessible, participatory ritual in a commonly used public space—like a market or transit hub—that transforms awareness of security overreach into collective dialogue, thereby challenging dominant narratives and fostering a shared sense of agency rooted in diverse lived experiences?
Erect a DIY “Checkpoint of Care” at the heart of a market: two cardboard arches painted in vivid blues and reds. One arch mimics the metal detector everyone already accepts. Its gate beeps theatrically and volunteers dressed as officials confiscate absurd “threats” drawn from lived reality—a diabetic’s insulin, a migrant’s passport copy, a protest banner. The second arch welcomes people with music; attendants gift seed packets labelled Housing, Healthcare, Free Speech and invite entrants to jot a safety wish on the packet before planting it in a communal planter.
A chalk line links the arches so commuters must choose: submit to spectacle or step into solidarity. QR codes on the floor pull phones to a live tally mapping how many wishes versus confiscations occur each hour. By day’s end, the planter overflows while the confiscation bin exposes the banality of state fear. Passers-by become co-authors; their bodies and stories literally redraw the perimeter of security.
Theory of change: playful contrast surfaces the hidden violence of “protection,” sparks dialogue among strangers and generates shareable visuals that travel faster than any pamphlet.
Which everyday object in your city could become tomorrow’s seed of dissent inside this living checkpoint?
What simple, familiar object—like a shopping cart, bus ticket, or street sign—could be repurposed into a participatory symbol that visibly captures and questions security overreach, encouraging spontaneous dialogue and collective reflection during busy transit or market hours?
Seize the humble till-receipt. Everyone receives one, stuffs it into a pocket, rarely rereads it. Rewire a market stall’s printer (or use a portable Bluetooth model) to issue “Security Receipts.” The header mimics a normal receipt but each line item lists a liberty recently taxed by counter-terror laws: “Stop-and-Search: 1,” “Data Harvested: 3,” “Deportations Pending: 0.2,” totalled under “Public Fear Surcharge.” A QR code links to your People’s Security Audit; a blank line invites the holder to scribble what safety really costs them. Nearby, a transparent suggestion box collects the annotated slips, turning passive documentation into active testimony. Commuters who compare bills outside the station discover they have paid the same hidden price.
Theory of change: a quotidian artefact mutates into dissent, spreading through pockets and purses faster than leaflets, converting every shopper into a walking data point and conversation starter.
Which stall owner or bus conductor in your network might lend their printer to start issuing freedom receipts tomorrow?