decolonization as a metaphor?
- Hooks
- Feb 23, 2022
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 13, 2022
What is the most effective way to approach decolonial activism in the digital sphere?

What does it mean to think about digital technology as a tool to resist and fight against colonialism as an ongoing challenge? As questions like these are far from being answered, I present two contrasting perspectives on how we can approach decolonial activism, specifically within the digital sphere.
Decolonizing technology
In her article, “Decolonizing technology: A reading list,” Beatrice Martini presents critical perspectives into how decolonization can be applied to modern technology. Martini describes digital technology as one example of a ‘borderless colonial’ phenomenon in which colonialism informs our understanding of where and how power is held. Additionally, Martini says that a growing number of individuals have been doing research into how a colonialist approach sits at the core of how digital technology is developed, distributed, and capitalized.
I argue that while Martini presents important social justice objectives, Martini’s approach to decentering settler perspectives has objectives that are incommensurable with decolonization. Specifically, Martini’s five bullet points under “Seeing the colonial dimensions of technology” are unsatisfactory in achieving the goals outlined by Indigenous scholar/ally Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang in their essay “Decolonization is not a metaphor.” Martini presents the following five bullet points as examples of the colonial dimensions of technology.
More than 60% of the world’s population remains offline.
Internet keeps being noticeably higher in advanced economies.
Speaking English is a significant doctor determining whether someone makes use of the web
Technology is still far from accessible to users who don’t have full physical and mental abilities
Systemic gender and racial discrimination worsen the digital divide worldwide
This is where it gets tricky. I mean not to say that any of these five bullet points that Martini presents are unnecessary. Further, numerous scholars argue that these issues are inherently intersectional, which I strongly agree with. Matters pertaining to accessibility, gender, race, and sexuality are critical in today’s age of digital activism. However, I believe that the colonial equivocation that Martini writes in these five bullet points is the textbook definition of one of the six “moves to innocence” that Tuck and Yang describe in their essay.
Settler moves to innocence and colonial equivocation
Tuck and Yang’s essay firmly states that any form of activism using the term decolonization without the repatriation of Indigenous land and life isn’t the work of decolonization. Further, they expand to say that the “metaphorization” of decolonization makes possible a set of evasions that problematically attempt to reconcile settler guilt and complicity. Tuck and Yang say that decolonization's easy absorption, adoption, and transposing is yet another form of settler appropriation. They say that:
“When we write about decolonization, we are not offering it as a metaphor; it is not an approximation of other experiences of oppression. Decolonization is not a swappable term for other things we want to do to improve our societies and schools.”
In response to Martini’s five bullet points on the “colonial dimensions of technology,” I argue that this falls under the precise definition of Tuck and Yang’s third “move to innocence:” colonial equivocation by homogenizing various experiences of oppression as colonization. “Calling different groups ‘colonized’ without describing their relationship to settler colonialism is an equivocation.”
I believe Martini hints at addressing these aforementioned colonial issues. Martini posits that colonialism can “be applied in contexts which do not necessarily relate to the exertion of rights over geographical borders, but still present in the acquisition of control over a community, its economical exploitation and erasure of its identity.” However, I think the part in which Martini falls short is distinguishing between what Tuck and Yang define as “settler-colonization.” They say that “settler-colonization” is different from colonization, in that settlers come intending to make a new home. They discuss these six strategies or positionings that settlers (not necessarily white) use to absorb decolonization. In this nature, as a settler, Martini does just this by grouping all struggles against imperialism as ‘decolonization’ to create a convenient ambiguity between decolonization and social justice work. Tuck and Yang say that:
‘We are all colonized,’ may be a true statement but is deceptively embracive and vague, its inference: ‘None of us are settlers.’ Equivocation, or calling everything by the same name, is a move towards innocence that is especially vogue in coalition politics among people of color.
Where do we go from here?
I understand the danger of “diluting” decolonization into just another anti-something movement or convenient hashtag. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is the effectiveness of social justice movements if their specific goals are not outlined properly?

Decolonization in the Indigenous context is not an issue we can push under an umbrella term. Yet, I ask, how do we navigate these existing binaries to create digital spaces to work towards non-metaphorical decolonization?
One thing remains clear: though justice must prevail in both the intangible and the tangible, a metaphorical “version” of decolonization regarded as such does more harm than good in the battle against an ongoing colonial power.
Comments