Comment Editor Safreen AC explores how the trend of labelling innocuous public behaviours as “performative” feeds into a more sinister culture of suspicion and surveillance.
The discourse trend that labels everyday public behaviours from reading on public transport, to listening to a popular artist, or getting a meal alone at a restaurant as “performative” appears to show no signs of leaving in 2026. Countless articles, editorials, short form videos and social media posts discuss what is and isn’t performative, and compile lists of things that can be labelled as such. Someone keeping to themselves and reading a book in a cafe is turned into a viral post with hundreds of comments debating whether or not said person is simply pretending to read.
People have been reading in public for as long as reading has been a thing. People have been existing and doing things in public spaces for as long as we all have been alive. Reading in public, listening to music on wired earphones, wearing a unique outfit — all of these things are frankly, unspectacular. People wanting to be perceived by those around them or be seen a certain way is nothing newsworthy either.
People have been reading in public for as long as reading has been a thing. People have been existing and doing things in public spaces for as long as we all have been alive.
This impulse to monitor, label, and “call out” what is best described as basic public behaviours, feeds into a culture that encourages suspicion and surveillance in relation to everyday occurrences. If a stranger reading on the bus is in fact pretending to do so, does it actually matter in the broad scheme of things? Because now you’re staring at this person, and then in some cases, taking photos or videos without their consent, and then posting it online for millions of people to see.
Observing or taking interest in other people in public spaces is nothing out of the norm. Sometimes you see something weird or overhear a funny conversation and relay it to friends, colleagues, or family you see later that day. But there is a big difference between seeing someone do something in public and sharing it with a friend, and posting it online to an audience with accompanying photographic evidence.
Discussions around surveillance often (rightfully) focus on the state, technology companies, media corporations, and other major institutions. The cellphone linked surveillance structures in places like Gaza are entirely rewriting the lives of people living there. The police and state in various countries have used social media to target and spy on activist groups. Surveillance culture is quite clearly a structural issue, but that does not make most people passive victims. There is a rising culture of self-surveillance which arises from but also actively feeds back into the normalisation of surveillance states.
Even if you disapprove of something that they have on their profile or what they do in their private lives, unless there’s some serious harm being caused there is no reason to invade their privacy in order to publicly police them.
Many of the people who “call out” strangers for public behaviours online exhibit a sense of self-righteousness and some even seem to view their surveillance of strangers as a public service. There are cases where recording someone or calling out bad behaviour is viewed as acceptable. Situations that involve racist abuse, sexual harassment, or other harmful public behaviours are entirely different from situations where people share details about intimate situations that have nothing to do with them. There have been quite a few instances of people sharing snippets of a fellow passenger’s texts or phone conversations online to “expose” things like infidelity or behaviour that they perceive as two-faced.
If your partner was cheating on you, or if someone you considered a friend was talking badly about you behind your back, it's likely that you’d want to know about it. At the same time, there has to be a better way than finding out this sensitive and damaging information from a stranger’s viral post online alongside millions of people who do not know. Many of these posts that purport to expose bad behaviour turn people’s intimate lives into public spectacle, and there have been multiple instances where people have been doxxed and harassed for things that should have been dealt with in private.
Obviously this sort of moral policing isn’t exactly the same as posting about someone’s alleged performative behaviour, but the foundation behind these behaviours is effectively the same. It is about the monitoring of people you do not know and who are not accountable to you for what they do in their personal lives (at least not in a meaningful way). It is not limited to photographing or recording people without their consent either. There are entire accounts dedicated to posting screenshots of people’s profiles on dating apps or private social media pages over perceived performativity or obnoxiousness. Even if you disapprove of something that they have on their profile or what they do in their private lives, unless there’s some serious harm being caused there is no reason to invade their privacy in order to publicly police them.
But there is a big difference between seeing someone do something in public and sharing it with a friend, and posting it online to an audience with accompanying photographic evidence.
There is a lot of nostalgia for times when people took risks and expressed themselves in unique ways, but the culture of surveillance and judgement that has taken hold over social life over the last decade or so actively encourages people to self-censor and inhibit themselves. The world has been growing increasingly lonely and fragmented, and making people feel even more self-consciousness about innocuous public behaviours isn’t going to make that any better. There is no doubt that the fact that technology and media companies incentivise surveillance and public exposure is a serious problem, but that doesn’t absolve people who invade other people’s privacy.
Sure, maybe that man on the bus was only “pretending” to read the Joan Didion book in his hands, but you’re the one standing there posting about him online (maybe even taking a photo) of someone who is just existing in a public space. The violation of this person’s privacy is far more harmful and antisocial than whatever performative behaviour is allegedly being exposed.
The violation of this person’s privacy is far more harmful and antisocial than whatever performative behaviour is allegedly being exposed.