Yana Buhrer Tavanier Yana Buhrer Tavanier

The Science and Art of Playtivism

Are you an activist feeling the first raindrops of burnout, or are you already engulfed in its storm? Either way, you’re not alone—studies show that burnout and depression are widespread amongst people trying to change the world.

Some years ago, I too was caught in burnout's downpour. My self-worth was dethroned by self-doubt—nothing I did seemed to matter, make a difference, or even make sense. 

What brought me respair was—wait for it—the work of a psychiatrist whose research on murderers revealed a common thread in their stories: a lack of play in childhood. This is how Dr. Stuart Brown came to study play, and today, he is the founder of the National Institute for Play in the US.

In his TED talk, Dr. Brown delves into the profound impact of play on the brain, citing evidence from neuroscience:

Nothing lights up the brain like play; the opposite of play is not work, but depression.

These words made a profound impact to my burnout self. Play felt like a promise—an answer to a question I didn’t yet know how to ask:

What if we raised activism to the power of play?

In his book, titled Play: How it Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination and Invigorates the Soul, Dr. Brown describes the impact that play can have on one's life: “We are designed to play. We are built to play and built through play.” To him play is a survival drive that is necessary for adaptation, flexibility and social learning, even helping one belong in a community.

Long before, Albert Einstein, who—by the way—came up with some of his best scientific ideas during his violin breaks, discussed the power of “combinatory play". Arthur Koestler’s theory of “bisociation” explains creativity as the combination of elements that don’t ordinarily belong together. Expanding on this idea, Maria Popova further emphasizes the power of networked knowledge:

“To truly create and contribute to the world, we have to be able to connect countless dots, to cross-pollinate ideas from a wealth of disciplines, to combine and recombine these pieces and build new castles.” 

Yet, while individual creativity and solo play lay the foundation, nothing rivals the towering castles we can build through play and collaboration with others.

“Play is the highest form of research”

While it’s debated whether the above quote truly belongs to Einstein, I can confirm it is, without a doubt, a stroke of genius. To test whether I can pull myself out of the burnout swamp by my own hair, I decided to engage in some serious play.

Through this process, I developed a concept I call playtivism—a portmanteau that merges the concepts of play and activism, and champions the idea that experimentation, creativity and joy can be powerful tools for driving social movements.

Together with my team at Fine Acts, we began building our own playgrounds—and inviting others to join us. We were further inspired by a deep dive into the science of what makes people care—confirming it’s not more facts that change minds, but experiences that make us feel something—like powerful stories or art.

So today, our sandboxes are filled with artists, designers, technologists, scientists, and journalists, working alongside activists in joyful, radical collaboration.

One example of such a space for cross-disciplinary creative play is LABS—our groundbreaking format that pairs artists and technologists to prototype joint projects that target specific human rights or environmental issues.

Some winning concepts from our Labs series include Beat.—our viral social experiment on domestic violence; Fakery—our fake pop-up bakery fighting disinformation; and Decktators—our board game that puts you in the shoes of dictators, so you get to really grasp the tools and tactics of oppression. In 2019, we also launched SPRINTS, where visual artists, supported by a pool of activist mentors, have 48 hours to create illustrations to be then distributed for free noncommercial use. See all our playtivism formats here. 

Time and time again we have seen that creative play and collaboration across disciplines are essential to human rights work—as play sparks better ideas; when we play, others want to join; play gives us the much needed feeling that ‘we got this’; and it can indeed be an antidote to the high levels of burnout and depression amongst activists.

Why play matters

In the realm of activism, where the stakes are so high and the challenges immense, the idea of incorporating play might seem counterintuitive or even frivolous. However, play is not merely a distraction or pastime, but a science-backed powerful tool and a deliberate and impactful approach to achieve our objectives:

  • Play is strategic. In activism, creative play is not a rehearsal—it is the opening act. It’s not about—let us play for a bit, to get the creative juices flowing, and then do the serious work. Play is the serious work. Play is an act of resistance. 

  • Play breathes life into activism: In playtivism, while the outcomes may not always be playful per se, the process itself always is. By creating multidisciplinary spaces for play and experimentation in activism, we foster out-of-the-box thinking, challenge established norms, and test new methods, resulting in networked knowledge and combinatory creativity that can drive better ideas and truly innovative solutions.  

  • Play is a safe space. Playtivism's emphasis on experimentation means there's an implicit understanding that not every initiative will succeed—and that's okay. This tolerance for failure, where mistakes become learning opportunities, creates an environment where activists can explore different approaches without the fear of always "getting it right." In fact, it's this very freedom that sparks the most surprising, refreshing and bold ideas—that defy the mundane and open doors to the extraordinary.

  • Play grows our armies stronger. Play fosters a sense of community and invites diverse participation. Through play, we break down barriers, build trust, and enhance collaboration. There’s a magnetic quality to play—when we engage in it, others are drawn in, which is vital for human rights, social, and environmental movements facing increasing threats and in need of as much support as possible. 

  • Play broadens the scope: By creating spaces where experimentation is encouraged, playtivism can broaden what is considered 'activism.' Moreover, play can redefine 'success' – it is no longer just about achieving a goal; it’s also about learning and growth, the courage to take risks without fear of failure, and the resilience built through the process. Success is the trust, connections and collaboration fostered within a community, the creative breakthroughs that emerge from thinking differently, and the sense of joy and purpose that sustains activists even in the face of immense challenges.

  • Play fosters resilience: Activism can be emotionally taxing, and burnout is real. Playtivism, by emphasizing play and experimentation, offers activists a form of respite and rejuvenation, even as they tackle serious issues. Play is air. It brings the levity we need to be able to breathe. 

To play is to live. As Oliver Sacks once said, “Even when tasks are no longer possible, play still is.”

But beyond being a source of relief, play has a deeper, transformative power. Play is a catalyst for discovery, it opens up new worlds of possibility, kindling hope and revealing paths where we once saw none.

Steven Johnson, captures this perfectly when discussing why so many experiences that started with simple delight and amusement eventually led us to profound breakthroughs: “You'll find the future wherever people are having the most fun.” 

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Yana Buhrer Tavanier Yana Buhrer Tavanier

On Hope and Play

I recently discovered the most beautiful dead word: respair. It fell out of the carriage of the English language around the 16th century, and means ‘fresh hope; a recovery from despair’. 

When the pull of defeat drags us to where we can’t even imagine the light above water, if we could resuscitate just one word, let it be respair. Even saying it feels like air—a breath that’s been held for too long, a sigh of relief. I also love that respair is both a noun and a verb, and so exquisitely encapsulates the one thing about hope we tend to forget the most—that it requires action.

To hope is to act

While respair patiently awaits resurrection, hope longs to be understood. All too often, it is mistaken for optimism or naïveté, a misjudgment that borders on offensive.

Yet, where does the difference lie? Nick Cave speaks about hope and optimism being “different, almost opposing, forces”.

Hope, Cave points out, “rises out of known suffering and is the defiant and dissenting spark that refuses to be extinguished. Optimism, on the other hand, can be the denial of that suffering, a fear of facing the darkness, a lack of awareness, a kind of blindness to the actual. Hope is wised-up and disobedient. Optimism can be fearful and false.”

Adding another dimension, Vaclav Havel thinks about hope “as a state of mind, not a state of the world”.

To Havel, hope is not a prognostication, but “an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons”.

Havel talks about hope as “an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed”.

Fortifying this understanding of hope as a proactive force, my friend and long-time collaborator Thomas Coombes, founder of hope-based comms, says, “Hope is the belief that tomorrow can be better, if we make it so”.

This idea is perhaps most beautifully articulated in the writings of Rebecca Solnit, who emphasizes: “It’s important to say what hope is not: it is not the belief that everything was, is, or will be fine.”

Solnit speaks about hope as “an embrace of the unknown and the unknowable, an alternative to the certainty of both optimists and pessimists”. To her, “hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act”.

Hope, then, is both the space to act and the act itself; it is the uncertainty of the outcome yet the certainty of the effort. Hope is not timid but bold; it challenges a fearful retreat from reality with the courage to face it and fight it. Hope is a quiet strength, a soft resolve; it acknowledges the darkness yet still believes in the possibility of light. In this way, hope is not just a feeling, but an action—a choice made despite pain, fear and doubt.

To play is to hope

If hope is an action, its most radical form is play.

Play liberates us, suspends disbelief, and propels us to explore way beyond the constraints of what is. In the burnout-ridden world of activism, play makes a much-needed space for joy, dissolves the paralyzing fear of mistakes, and ignites us to envision what could be.

In this sense, play is not a frivolous escape from the present, but a deliberate choice to engage with the world differently—to imagine, create, and transform. When harnessed for change, play becomes a reaffirmation of possibility, a force not of recreation but of revolution. 

I have previously explored the science behind play in activism, why it works, and why playtivism matters. But above all, I believe play to be the most defiant expression of hope; hope—the bravest human trait; and therefore, play—a daring act of resistance.

In adulthood, and especially in activism, we rarely grant ourselves and others the permission to play, often conflating being serious with being effective. So while we’re at resurrecting respair, in our new garden of fresh hope, let’s lay the notion of deliberate dullness to rest. 

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Yana Buhrer Tavanier Yana Buhrer Tavanier

On Play, Memory, and Imagination

In today’s world besieged by constant crises, one of the biggest is the crisis of imagination. Described by numerous scholars, this pervasive phenomenon finds societies around the world mired in the present, experiencing a form of aphantasia that hinders their ability to envision different futures.

Stuck in the quicksands of now, people are less and less able to take a leap to a desired then. Many are grasping at the straws of back thens, and sinking deeper.

In his book Another World is Possible, UCL professor Geoff Mulgan suggests that one reason for that is a hollowing out of social imagination—in politics, universities, and social movements. This fuels a sense of fatalism and shifts politics into a reactionary mode, promising a return to a better yesterday rather than a journey to a better tomorrow.

This sense of stagnation is notably present in regions marked by armed conflict, economic challenges, and social inequality. There, and to varying degrees almost everywhere, the civic sector grapples with a perpetual state of emergency and need to respond to immediate crises—all while persisting issues such as lack of funding, necessity for self-preservation, and censorship further complicate its operations.

To build the tomorrow we want, we must first imagine it today. Imagination, therefore, is not a luxury but a grave necessity.

And while individual dreams can shape lives, it is the collective dreams that shape reality. In an environment where the present feels insurmountable and the future seems unattainable, it is crucial to engage in deliberate, collective efforts to imagine and design alternative futures.

To imagine the future, first remember the past

A couple of years back I did an Executive program on future-crafting at NTU Singapore. The course I enjoyed the most was on science fiction writing, and the best advice there was: to imagine the future, don't start at the present—think about the past, and extrapolate from there. 

I thought back then—our amnesia could lead to aphantasia. If we don't know what has been, we can't imagine what will be. We build the castles of the future using the sand of the past. Without memory, there is no sand, no castles to inhabit—only the relentless waters of the present, eroding the rocks of our existence.

There are many good reasons to take memory and history seriously: to start with George Santayana’s “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”; Maya Angelou’s "History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again"; or William Faulkner’s "The past is never dead. It's not even past."

History, however, is not merely a warning; it should also be a celebration. The past exists not only for us to learn from our mistakes but also to take pride in how far we've come. Too often, we neglect to bask in the light of recent victories, choosing instead to stand in the shadow of looming defeats; our mouths, no longer remembering the sweetness of past triumphs, now know only the rotten taste of despair.

Rebecca Solnit notably writes how collective amnesia can lead to despair:

“The status quo would like you to believe it is immutable, inevitable, and invulnerable, and lack of memory of a dynamically changing world reinforces this view. In other words, when you don’t know how much things have changed, you don’t see that they are changing or that they can change”.

Solnit argues, “There’s a public equivalent to private depression, a sense that the nation or the society rather than the individual is stuck. Things don’t always change for the better, but they change, and we can play a role in that change if we act. Which is where hope comes in, and memory, the collective memory we call history.”

An avid rower herself, Solnit says:

“You row forward looking back, and telling this history is part of helping people navigate toward the future. We need a litany, a rosary, a sutra, a mantra, a war chant for our victories. The past is set in daylight, and it can become a torch we can carry into the night that is the future”.

Designing for collective imagination

If you are an activist who wants to start flexing your imagination muscle, there are brilliant places to start: like checking out the Ministry of Imagination Manifesto, or getting inspired by the Imagination Activism movement. 

Beyond that, I am deeply interested in fostering collective imagination. At Fine Acts, we create spaces that guide groups of civic actors through essential steps in this process. Participants start by questioning and reframing current realities, and adopting new hope-based mindsets. They then enter the core phase of strategic imagination and serious play, and make initial attempts at prototyping solutions. After envisioning new possibilities, participants dive into designing and testing alternatives. Finally, they come together to reflect on successes and challenges, fostering collaboration and ongoing support for their collective vision.

Albert Einstein famously said:​​

“I am enough of the artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”

I believe we are all enough of an artist—but when our imagination feels out of reach, we need tools to reel it back in. Play is one such powerful tool; it opens up a space for creativity and experimentation, allowing us to step outside conventional boundaries and explore possibilities with courage and joy. 

While memory and imagination are the twin forces that allow us to transcend the present, play is distinctly rooted in the now—but only to melt yesterday into tomorrow, transforming past wisdom into creative visions for a future that is both imagined and achievable.

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Yana Buhrer Tavanier Yana Buhrer Tavanier

The Playtivism Mindset: Six Shifts Organizations Should Make

In playtivism, just like the highest side of a dice, there are six shifts organizations should make, in order to win:

  1. From Seriousness to Playfulness

    The first step is realizing how important play really is. It’s not just for fun—play is a powerful tool that can spark creativity, help us build stronger communities, and even drive social change. It makes activism more imaginative, gives us fresh ideas, and pushes us to work together. Play connects people, helps us break down barriers, and builds empathy. It lets us step outside the usual routines and experiment, all without the fear of messing up. Plus, it’s good for us—play reduces stress, boosts resilience, and helps us build a future full of joy, creativity, and collaboration.

  2. From Silos to Collaboration

    Play is always better when shared, and the same goes for activism. We need to shift from working in isolation to teaming up, inviting people from different fields to get involved. When we mix expertise from areas like art, tech, design, and science, we open the door to new ideas and creative solutions. Playing together doesn’t just boost creativity—it strengthens our activism by building a diverse community of thinkers and doers, each bringing unique skills and viewpoints that amplify our efforts to create change in ways we couldn’t achieve alone.

  3. From Rigidity to Fluidity 

    Activism often relies on clear plans and structured roles, but playtivism encourages flexibility and improvisation. It’s about adapting, experimenting, and shifting when needed, rather than sticking to rigid paths. While many organizations focus only on outcomes, valuing the process can bring deeper insights and lasting impact and redefine success. Moreover, shifting from a top-down approach to co-creation allows for shared ownership and unlocks truly transformative potential.

  4. From Perfection to Iteration 

    Activism often carries the burden of perfection—the need to get everything right the first time. Playtivism encourages a shift toward iteration, where experimenting and improving over time is more important than flawless execution. This mindset builds resilience by viewing failure as part of the process. Each trial is a chance to learn, adapt, and refine, creating a culture where growth, not perfection, is the goal.

  5. From Fear to Boldness 

    Fear of failure, the unknown, or not being taken seriously often holds organizations back. Playtivism shifts this mindset toward boldness, encouraging audacity in action. In play, risk-taking comes naturally, breaking down the fear of judgment and unlocking courageous ideas that push boundaries.

  6. From Burnout to Joy 

    Activism can be draining—emotionally, mentally, and physically. Playtivism reminds us that joy is not a luxury but a necessity for sustained activism. Play infuses our efforts with moments of lightness, laughter, and delight.

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