The Price of Principles

*With profound thanks to Yasmina Benslimane for the passion and purpose behind the principles, and to Olivia Hooper for the research.

I’ve been thinking a lot about principles. Big word. What do I mean? A belief that guides you. A rule. A value. Ethics. Our moral compass. That type of stuff. The good things that keep us in line–that keep us true to ourselves.

Having principles means asking ourselves if a given thing is in line with the stuff that we’ve committed to live by. And if not, it means having the courage to walk away.

Taking a mighty moral high ground comes with a cost. This means turning down opportunities, events, funding, partnership, whatever comes our way because it doesn’t align with our core values. Yes, even friends and family. If we want to live by our principles, we have to be ready to dismiss a few things–a moral spring cleaning, if you will.

OK, that sounds great. But seriously now… Can we do it? Who can do it? What’s it going to cost us? Who can afford to pay? Is this an unattainable ideal? A luxury? Should only those who can afford to do it, do it?

Sticking to principles might come with a financial cost–lost jobs or opportunities, for instance. Or an emotional cost–lost sense of safety in the company of people we once trusted. Or a social cost–increased isolation and alienation when we separate from professional and personal contacts who don’t fit our worldview.

I’ve been wondering about all of this. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to make decisions based on principles, but it’s among the most stark. Palestine has divided the world, and I for one cannot accept the other side. And now, nine months into this shitstorm, I’ve been asking myself: What do we lose when we speak out? And also: What do we lose when we stay silent?

I suppose we all need to ask ourselves these questions. And our boundaries are bound to look different. It’s worth thinking about where we draw the line? What are our moral non-negotiables? Is it peace, politics, religion, diversity, freedom? On what principles can we not compromise?

And if our red line is crossed, then what? Do we step down, step away, step aside? And in doing so, have we created a vacuum where less favorable ideas (and ideals) can sprout? When we’re no longer in a professional position, how do we continue to fight? And if many people quit, what happens then? Will the organization change? Or has the demographic changed, resulting in a uniform ideology that is in direct opposition to our cause? How many people have to quit before leaders take notice?

And what about those who don’t quit? What price do they pay? Do they still live their values, even if they can’t do so publicly? Amal Clooney is a great example. Her silence on Palestine brought a tsunami of condemnation. Then many ate their words when it turned out she was working to support the ICC.

The current situation–a willful extermination and massacre of a population, along with its culture and infrastructure–seems to not be enough to get those in power to stand up. Look at celebrities, for instance. I do not equate pop culture with power, but we can’t deny the influence they have, and in that sense, the public power they wield. Too many celebrities fear taking a stand because they risk their own status in doing so. It seems that “peace” is not a popular opinion, and “ceasefire” is enough to light the self-righteous fires of cancel culture.

In response, activists launched Blockout 2024, a campaign to block celebrities who fail to take a stand. In some cases, it worked. Actress and singer Selena Gomez lost one million followers on Instagram. Similarly, singer Billie Eilish lost over one million, Rhianna lost 110,000 followers on X, and public figure Kylie Jenner lost 53,000.

Is that enough? Absolutely not. How much is enough, then?

Let’s say we don’t just stand up, we quit. If we choose this route, how do we do it? A public proclamation? Silent condemnation? A subtle slither out of slight? Look at Yasmina Benslimane’s public bow-out, guided by her principles, with lessons for all of us. She shares her story here about why she thought it was necessary.

I refuse to let recognition, money, or greed erode my core principles, unlike the sellout politicians who have failed us. Accepting the status quo means compromising on values that matter deeply. Recently, I was invited to receive an award from a so-called DEI company.

As I prepared my speech and presentation, dedicating the award to the people of Palestine, Sudan, and Congo, they pressured me to change my words to avoid ‘pushback’ from the audience — more concerned with making others comfortable than honoring the truth. Their actions were disrespectful and a reminder of the hypocrisy of organizations that claim to champion inclusivity.

Throughout this process, I felt degraded and manipulated rather than celebrated. These performative gestures of support only highlight their disregard for true ethics and inclusivity. There is no honor in receiving an award when you are treated with such disrespect.

My integrity and commitment to truth and justice are non-negotiable. I refuse to accept anything that does not align with my values. I understand that I have the privilege to take this stance, and so I exercise that because, to me, it is the right thing to do.

Speaking of quitting, an increasing number of US government officials have left their positions, sacrificing their careers and incomes, to remain true to their moral compass. So far, 13 officials have left their positions because they can not abide by the government’s complicity in Israel’s genocide. Officials with various backgrounds, and some with decades of service, decided that they will take a stand.

This began with Josh Paul who worked for more than 11 years as the director of congressional and public affairs at the State Department’s Bureau of Political-Military Affairs, overseeing arms transfers to foreign nations. Paul publicly announced his resignation in October 2023, stating that he is leaving because he could no longer abide by the expanded and expedited provision of lethal arms to Israel.

Hala Rharrit, the State Department’s spokeswoman for the Middle East and North Africa, resigned on April 25 after 18 years of service because she opposed the US policy on Palestine. “Diplomacy, not arms,” she said in a LinkedIn post. “Be a force for peace and unity.”

There are many more whose names deserve to be known and whose stories should be told.

We also recognize the tragic passing of US airman Aaron Bushnell, who set himself on fire outside the Israeli embassy in Washington DC in February of this year as he shouted “Free Palestine.”

Does it have to be this extreme? No.
But can we be principled? Yes.
And is it worth it? Also yes.

What might that look like in our daily lives?

It might mean having the courage to say no to opportunities–jobs, speaking engagements, whatever–believing that they need us more than we need them. Let’s also be honest here. This is a luxury not many can afford. Maybe we’d like to be more principled, but we also gotta eat. So we can’t assume that those who do not pass up these opportunities are doing so out of greed. No, they are doing so out of need.

Sure, principles are a necessity. But they can also be luxury. Not everyone who wants to stand on principle might have the freedom to do so.

There are still some things we can pay attention to, like where the money is, and where it goes, for instance. This can often be hard to trace. Are we being paid fairly and compensated fully for our time and expertise? That’s one thing. But also, does the organization donate to causes that align with its values–and with ours? That can be harder. And sometimes it’s a mix of causes–where only some align. What then?

It’s up to us. Do we take the opportunity with the hope that we can be disruptive from the inside? Or do we pass it up in hopes of something that is right? Only you will know. In the end, I’d say that if it doesn’t feel good, it isn’t gonna be good.

Yes, we can infiltrate spaces in subversive ways. If every “good person” leaves, what’s left? The bad stuff. A dangerous vacuum. There’s something to be said for being able to direct the course of things when we’re actually in the things.

Where are the lines?
What’s the right thing to do?
You draw the lines. You decide.

Sometimes the actions are small–those are valid too. Take the environment, for instance. No one starts out by jumping on a Greenpeace ship to Antarctica. Or maybe very few?! Instead, we might rethink how you reuse or recycle our own garbage. No one sees this gesture, but we’re holding ourselves accountable and living our values.

Who’s to judge if this is “enough”? No one but you.

What’s important is to remember that we have some power. We can take the things closest to us that need to change, and change them. We can–as you’ve probably heard me say a bazillion times–Start Where We Stand.

Who’s to decide what constitutes “activism” with a capital A? Who is “activistier” than the other? I don’t much care about that stuff.

Activism is an act of love–for ourselves and for our causes and our community. Whatever you do, you gotta do something!

What’s the bottom line here?

Lots of gray areas. Sure, opportunities come and go. But our integrity is not for sale.

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