This past weekend, organizers of the Mass-Can concert series led their annual rally for the legalization of marijuana. Accompanied by a few area grunge bands and the pathetic Howard Stern-airing WBCN, self-styled libertarians from around the state descended on the Boston area to tout their god-given right to smoke pot. Pecans to sex, drugs and rock and roll opened the rally as various potheads launched diatribes against the paternalistic state.

Superficially, such an event seems like a small victory for student activism. Certainly the substantive content of the protest was contemptible--only an idiot or an unreconstructed hedonist would wish to smoke cannabis after being fully apprised of the drug's ill-effects. Yet perhaps its form--with its persistent challenges to authority and the status quo--represented a first step toward a broader social consciousness among college students. Even if the cause of cannabis is bankrupt, Mass-Can could still claim a bit of credit for raising the political consciousness of its followers.

Unfortunately, even this glimmer of hope dissolves after a few moments of analysis. Libertarian "movements" like Mass-Can represent not the activism, but rather the pseudo-politicization of college students. Their empty promises of "self-realization" lead not to an emancipatory politics, but rather only to more consumerist frustrations. They represent the conservatism of frivolity--the betrayal of political commitment for the isolation of individualism.

Such reasoning may at first seem counterintuitive. In a nation whose public philosophy resonates with rhetoric of revolution, defiance of authority is taken as prima facie evidence of a political action. Yet as political scientist Sheldon Wolin reminds us, the proper province of the political is the shared regulation of our common life--not the willy-nilly pursuit of private passions and interests. Generation X cannot redeem its shameful record of political apathy with concerts and parties.

Perhaps the most insidious facet of this new orientation in student activism is its roots in a mass culture created by corporate advertising. Any self-respecting adman angling for the dollars of the twenty something set is bound to include references to nonconformity and independence in his copy. The great irony is that these ads' suggestible targets consummate their acts of resistance in moments of consumption long drained of meaningful content by their repetition and brevity.

The reactionary nature of this contrived rebellion is crystallized in the modern reaction against political correctness on college campuses. As Paul Loeb writes in his book Generation at the Crossroads, "Students [now] justify any sort of heedless, bullying, mean-spirited, or simply apolitical behavior as a way of combating 'liberal thought police.'" In the name of liberty, basic human kindness and recognition have been shunned as onerous burdens.

Paradoxically, this liberationist dynamic has captured several of the most important social movements of our day. For instance, in his Saint Foucault, David Halperin argues that the contemporary gay rights movement cannot promote "emancipation" as such, but only "resistance" to the dominant norms of American culture. Such resistance aims not for rational confrontation of discrimination, but only for an artful and belligerent disdain for the prejudiced. Despite the popularity of approaches like Halperin's in the academy, the reasoned engagement counseled by moderates like Andrew Sullivan offers a far more constructive model for marginal social groups.

Unfortunately, it is precisely this type of practical political action which has the most difficult time getting a fair hearing in the press. Driven by the logic of the market to offer briefer and briefer sound bites as programming, newscasts present issues in terms of Manichean contrasts instead of complex human affairs. As the line between news and entertainment gets more and more blurry, the mass media has a narcotizing impact entirely hostile to participatory democracy.

This same dynamic has dominated our campus press as well. Mentally exhausted by turgid texts, most students read about campus affairs for relaxation instead of serious engagement. Style dominates substance as journalists and editorialists skewer for the sake of skewering. This trend been demonstrated occasionally in the case of the Progressive Undergraduate Council Coalition, an organization trashed by several commentators who seized on its minor peccadilloes while ignoring its larger promise. In the midst of a relentlessly critical and uncooperative press, student groups ranging from the Ethnic Studies Action Committee to the Harvard-Radcliffe Republican Alliance have found it difficult to engage in truly constructive social action.

Of course, the politics of the theatrical need not always be retrogressive. For instance, Strategic Offense's "intervention" at Government 1091's opening meeting was a skillful method of debunking the baseless legitimacy conferred on pundits like George Will by constant exposure in the press. Yet even this agitprop risks impotence if spectacle becomes an end instead of a means. Without a coherent platform of action, groups like Strategic Offense will quickly become irrelevant to serious reform.

Max Weber once called politics the "strong and slow boring of hard boards." The absurdity of the MassCan festival as a focal point for student activism quickly becomes apparent if one considers its irrelevance to the larger political community. If our generation wishes to make a difference, to influence politics in positive and constructive ways, it cannot simply indulge in infantile self-assertions of prerogatives to hedonism. And if editorialists wish their work to transcend the fruitless mockery of a peanut gallery, they must forsake their stylized satire for constructive engagement with reformers around them.