From Torches to Twitter (and Everything in Between)

Ah, riots. They’re the sudden, chaotic burst of collective energy that can transform a peaceful neighbourhood into a whirlwind of shattered windows, burning cars, and the occasional looted flat-screen TV. It’s like an unscheduled block party, but with more Molotov cocktails and fewer snacks. For centuries, riots have been the ultimate outlet for the frustrations of the downtrodden. But let’s not kid ourselves—riots are as much a tradition as they are a tragedy.

The history of riots is as long and convoluted as the line outside an Apple store on the day a new iPhone drops. Since the dawn of civilization, humans have had a penchant for riots—a time-honoured tradition where chaos takes centre stage and common sense takes a vacation. The ancient Romans were particularly enthusiastic about this form of entertainment. Their version of fun? The Circus Maximus riots, where chariot races sometimes turned into fiery demolition derbies. Forget Formula 1; these guys knew how to mix sports with arson, all without the luxury of social media to amplify the outrage.

As time progressed, so did the scale of these disturbances. Enter the French Revolution, an upgrade from mere riots to full-blown revolution. Frustrated with the monarchy’s excesses, the French decided that guillotines were the new black. Louis XVI might have preferred to send a “We’re sorry, our country is out of order” memo, but instead, heads rolled and history was made. This set a new standard for civil unrest, elevating the riot to revolutionary status.

But not all riots enjoy the spotlight of history. Many are simply expressions of collective anger, where a legitimate grievance ignites a firestorm that often consumes more than just the original target. From the Rodney King riots in L.A. to the London riots of 2011 and countless food riots throughout history, these events typically start with a cry for justice and end with a smouldering Starbucks.

So, why do people riot? At its core, a riot is about power—or, more accurately, the lack of it. When people feel unheard and marginalized, they sometimes resort to the most visible and destructive means of communication. It’s a desperate shout of “We’re still here!” by tossing a brick against the shield of authority. When voices go unheard, there’s no scheduling a meeting—instead, people start a bonfire. It’s like sending an angry email, but with more fire and fewer grammar mistakes. Is it overkill? Sure. Does it get attention? Absolutely.

Then there's the mob mentality, where otherwise reasonable people suddenly decide that flipping a car is an excellent way to spend a Tuesday night. If you’ve ever found yourself swept up in a concert crowd, you’ve experienced a mild version of this collective energy. It’s all fun and games until that energy turns destructive with tragic results.

The tragic irony is that most riots end up torching the very neighbourhoods they’re trying to defend. It’s like protesting poor living conditions by making them even worse. But why target your own backyard? For starters, that’s where people live. Additionally, when anger boils over, the nearest target tends to be the one that gets hit.

Take the Watts Riots of 1965. Sparked by police brutality, the African-American community in Los Angeles erupted in a six-day uprising. Buildings burned, businesses were looted, and when the flames finally died down, the community was left with even more poverty and devastation. It’s the cruel joke of rioting: the people who suffer the most are often those who had the least to begin with.

A similar grim pattern emerged during the 1992 Rodney King Riots. After the acquittal of the officers involved in King’s beating, L.A. went up in flames. The hardest-hit areas? The poorer neighbourhoods, of course. The anger and frustration were justified, but the aftermath only deepened the suffering of those already struggling. By the time the National Guard arrived, billions in damage had been done—mostly to the very people protesting their mistreatment.

So, are there any upsides to rioting? If you squint really hard and twist logic into a pretzel, you might argue that riots bring attention to issues that might otherwise be ignored. They often do so at a devastating cost. After all, it’s hard to overlook a city on fire. It’s like setting off fireworks to say, “Hey, notice me!” but with far more property damage.

However, the downsides far outweigh the benefits. Riots destroy businesses, erase jobs, and leave communities in ruins. They also tend to shift the narrative from the original issue to the violence itself, turning public sympathy into public outrage. And let’s not forget the crackdown that follows—increased police presence, curfews, and harsher laws. It’s like asking for a raise and getting fired instead.

Riots are a complex, often tragic phenomenon. They’re born out of frustration, powerlessness, and a desperate need for change. But too often, they end up causing more harm than good, especially to the very communities that need the most help.

Here’s a radical thought: before you grab your pitchforks and flaming torches, consider some alternatives that are just as effective (and bonus: they don’t come with a criminal record). Instead of smashing that ATM, why not try civil disobedience by sitting on it until someone important notices you? If making the wealthy uncomfortable is your goal, you could organize a boycott, hitting them where it hurts—in their designer wallets. It might not have the instant gratification of watching something go up in flames, but at least you’ll still be able to post about it on social media without worrying about the cops showing up at your door.

If you’re looking to channel your inner revolutionary without the collateral damage, why not use artistic expression? Nothing says "down with the system" quite like a flash mob in a corporate plaza—bonus points if it’s interpretive dance. Or, go digital with an online campaign, flooding the internet with memes so sharp they make the establishment bleed. And if you’re really itching for some interaction, organize a peaceful march where the only thing you throw is shade. Who knew you could dismantle the system one cleverly worded sign at a time?

Peace out! ✌️