The Modern Spectator: How Bold Statements Force Sports Fans to Consider Justice

Sue Bird embodies digital activism, allyship, and the documentation of thoughtful advocacy. Like other athletes, she uses her platform to prioritize social justice and voting information. As a WNBA All-Star, Olympian, and Vice President of the WNBA Players’ Association, she has a high social media following because of her talents and charismatic personality. However, despite her incredible athletic accolades and achievements, she represents a greater movement of athlete activism and communal support. The WNBA has long been a frontrunner of professional athletic organizations’ bold, powerful speech, and demand for justice. Whether it is equal pay, LGBTQ+ rights, education, voting, or racial justice, the WNBA has made their position loud and clear, and they are a united front when it comes to these issues. Many professional athletes have since emulated their tactics of peaceful protest and in the last few months, entire organizations have exhibited similar ways to make political and social statements. Despite setting an example with consistent and seemingly unanimous support for Black Lives Matter and other social movements in the past decade, it seems the WNBA’s spotlight is limited unless a male counterpart publicly references them or shows support. The WNBA players are not new to negative and hateful speech and commentary about any and everything they do, but they are not alone in the historical trend where athletes of all identities and groups face hateful backlash every time they use their voice. This is a revamped version of the death threats received by John Carlos and Tommie Smith in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, except now, they are out in the open in the comment section of every social platform on the internet. This backlash, which athletes have unfortunately grown to expect when they make the decision to speak up, forces each and every athlete to make a choice: justice or career—when they should be able to do both. It’s impossible to separate social media posts from capital gain, as many of these athletes have partnerships and endorsements on top of their high paying contracts; so historically, every time an athlete makes a political statement, they risk the choice of their colleagues, families, and the future of those who identify with them over the money.

While John Carlos, Tommie Smith, Muhammad Ali, Althea Gibson, and Bill Russell are a few names that come to mind when exploring the impact and choice enmeshed in athlete activism; they represent a pre-social media arena of social statements. They paved the way for athletes and activists, and set a good example of holding fans, partners, and management accountable for their prejudice. However, as we are immersed in the era of social media, activism is evolving, and content that takes 5 minutes to create can cause commentary to instantly ricochet from a thousand responsive sources—we see everything. Because of this, people in the spotlight must be purposeful and cognizant of the content they create and share (or refrain from sharing). Individual social statements shared on Instagram and twitter seem to hold less weight than speech or other forms of in-person protest, but collectively, the effects of these statements have been and will continue to be enormous.

What used to be a removed relationship between athlete and commentator, is diminished once social media is involved. Fans seem to feel like there is a place for their counter-arguments underneath athletes’ posts and social statements, and this is the purposeful design of these platforms. While it may not seem like these “fans” sitting at home commenting have any power when determining the future of athletes’ careers, the threat of losing fans is powerful when organizations are more profit-driven than human-driven. Even the president publicly stated he would no longer support the NBA because of athletes’ collective statements about police brutality in the last month. Despite such backlash, unprecedented numbers of athletes have come together to form a united front against hate and ignorance, push for reform, and draw attention to what is “bigger than sports,” even if their paycheck, revenue of their organization, and career is on the line. Even though their paycheck may be at risk, as more athletes bind together to advocate for themselves and one another, they become exponentially more powerful.

While momentum, collectivism, and advocacy on social media are all crucial in pushing for real change, it’s essential to recognize those who spoke out without their teammates, coaches, and management by their side, and lost their followings and careers because of it. Colin Kaepernick lost everything because of a peaceful statement that demanded equal treatment and elimination of police violence. He continues to focus his work on activism and reform, while mentoring other athletes who look to do the same. He did not have the luxury of social media momentum and support from fans, partners, and powerful people in his organization to back him when people were trying to ruin his income and life, so his choice cost him. Now, entire professional organizations are trying to convey their support for their athletes’ demand for justice—but this could only happen with a collective effort from the faces of these very organizations. Even if the ownership and management sector of these national leagues and associations is only displaying performative activism, they still feel pressure to display their solidarity and alignment with athletes’ social missions which is a great start to reform. By making a statement, they sacrifice revenue by losing support from the ignorant population of fans; but in return, they make their position known and preserve the impacts of members of their association.

The WNBA has always chosen to be unapologetically loud with their demands for reform and equality because people have always had hateful things to say about their impact regardless of their speech. However, the unapologetic nature of their activism has become contagious. While there is inevitable loss that individuals and organizations face when they make political statements—especially in the polarized circumstances we live in—these professionals have also educated people who may have always had the luxury to turn a blind eye to injustice. The men and women who are in the spotlight are role-models, and people want to emulate not only their talents, but who they are. They set trends with their shoes, clothes, and even they way they walk and speak. They are diverting the attention they receive to the content of their message, and while they are taking a risk, the reward can be monumental.

What once was an athlete’s choice between career and candid messaging for justice, has now been transferred to the recipients of that very message. Fans must face the realities of the lives and upbringings of their favorite people, and make a choice to support the human over the athlete. When they choose to support the human, they also support the group that person is advocating for. The content creator’s mission to draw attention to justice by verifying their relation and advocacy for a group now becomes a question of what the observer’s response says about their relation to that group. Does the observer naturally identify with that group, are they an ally, have they been oblivious or ignorant and want to learn more, or will they choose to deny the truth and stop supporting that player or association? Whatever their response may be, it can be seen as a victory—either the athlete’s message empowers or educates someone, or it aggravates someone, in which case the loss of their support is a victory for the identity of the association as a whole.

The consistent choice of advocacy and push for change over capital profit can be an inspiration for the future of activism and athletes who don’t have to be afraid to use their voice. Because these athletes have bravely and continuously spoken out, fearlessly promoting their values despite the threats of “fans,” loss of money, or even getting cut, they have set a precedent for large companies who endorse these players to support their vision and demand for justice alongside them. There is a shift happening. We see it in our commercials, in the designs of our consumables, in the mindset transformation of fans, and even in the management and ownership sector of professional sports: the people who employ, endorse, partner with, and manage these athletes and organizations are finally understanding that they can either support the mission, or lose their job, but the athlete will remain powerful. The power is slowly shifting, and as it becomes taboo to stay silent, people are learning to break down the walls that prevent their compassion, confront their prejudices, and stand on the right side of history.