In Protest of a Non-Aggressive World

Thien Nguyen ’26

Contributing Writer

When young people grow frustrated with the world around them, they choose to act rather than remain silent. This tendency has earned our generation the label of “aggressive.” We are called aggressive when we take to the streets in protest, when we persistently advocate for causes we believe in, or even when we flood social media with posts calling attention to injustice. Yet, acts such as genocide, racism or harrassment are sometimes not being framed in the same way. It’s difficult to clarify the concept of aggression, but it’s worth trying — especially in today’s world. Only by unpacking this complex concept can we begin to identify its true sources and find constructive ways forward.

The term aggression originates in social psychology, where it describes behavior to cause harm. But whether a given act is perceived as aggressive depends on intent. When faced with actions that inflict emotional or physical harm, it is important to ask whether the person meant to hurt others, or was this a fleeting outburst — a moment of negative emotion without any malicious intent? This distinction matters. Understanding the intent offers us a form of armor, a way to shield ourselves from getting caught in cycles of aggression. It is impossible to erase all the aggressive acts that occur in the world, but we can at least draw the line by clarifying the definition. By shifting our perspective, it could help us avoid labeling behavior as aggressive when it isn’t and more importantly, sharpens our ability to recognize what truly is.

Taking student protests as an example, many students have faced punishment for impulsive acts during demonstrations. A recent protest at Trinity College on Oct. 18, where students chanted outside of Hamlin Hall during a Board of Trustees dinner to urge the administration to disclose and divest, ultimately led to admonitions for several participants. In more severe cases at other institutions, such actions have even led to imprisonment. Students often view these protests as a way to advocate for greater transparency in their college’s investment policies and to push for divestment from corporations involved in or profiting from genocide. College administrators, however, frequently interpret these actions as aggressive, largely due to the disruptions they might cause to the campus community.The acts displayed during such protests are more likely to stem from impulsive emotional responses than deliberate intent. The negative emotions students experience — rooted in dissatisfaction with the present and anxiety about the future — likely fuel emotional aggression rather than a purposeful desire to harm others.

The aggressive attitudes of young people are not born in a vacuum; they reflect the broader currents of society. In a world where violence often plays out as a dominant narrative, it’s impossible not to be influenced, and reinforced the belief that aggression is not only acceptable but an effective way to resolve conflict. This phenomenon is rooted in observational learning. What we absorb from daily news, social media, or real-life experiences involving aggression (as defined by your understanding) would construct “aggressive scripts” in our minds. When faced with a situation that resembles one from the “script,” we are likely to respond aggressively, mirroring what we have observed.

It feels like we’re all actors in a scripted movie, playing roles we never auditioned for. What movie do you think we’re in right now? I’m reminded of the haunting scene from “Nineteen Eighty-Four,”  the film adaptation of George Orwell’s novel, where Party members participate in the ritual known as the Two Minutes Hate. In this scene, they are compelled to watch a film of rebel leader Emmanuel Goldstein and unleash their rage. “The horrible things about the Two Minutes Hate,” Orwell writes, “was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in”. Orwell’s caution feels painfully relevant today. The more we are exposed to aggression, the more we risk being shaped by it. Even if we try to draw a clear line between ourselves and the violence we witness, the line inevitably begins to blur one day. 

Humans are not just influenced through observation alone; the outcomes of those behaviors play a role in shaping whether we’re motivated to imitate them. This dynamic holds true for aggressive behavior as well. When aggression is punished, observers may be less likely to imitate it. However, if the act is praised or ignored, there’s a higher chance we will replicate the aggressive response to an unwanted event. This reinforcement theory seems inconsistent with youth protests, as more severe punishment often leads to greater impulsivity. Does science no longer hold the same truth in our lives today?

Nowadays, we see people communicate using anger, insults, and accusations, amplified and accepted over time. We witness the killings in Gaza and the threat to countless lives in Ukraine, framed as efforts to maintain order. The line in the textbook that once defined aggression is blurrier than ever, and behaviors deemed harassment are now treated as a joke, racism as satire and violence as defense. For young adults like us, we just started to navigate the harsh realities, and to learn how to react with our frustration towards the current situation. In this climate, the need for “good teachers” — those who can guide us in dealing with negative feelings without resorting to aggression — has never been more pressing. 

However, the way college educators address aggression seems counterproductive, and may even be exacerbating the problem. In response to student protests, many universities have attempted to punish their students through caution or legal action, such as seeking court injunctions to remove encampments or deploying police to disperse protesters violently. These tactics were meant to suppress the aggression of the young protectors, which only later fuel students’ determination to act more impulsively, as they perceive these measures as infringements on their right to free speech. 

I was one of those students who stood outside of the Hamlin Hall on that day, desperately looking for the attention of people who are more powerful, and hopeful that they were aware of the cost of a violent society on the younger generation’s aggression. Looking back on my personal experience, I have always been caught in a mix of emotions: anger toward those indifferent people, helplessness when I could do nothing but chant loudly, sadness for those who were the victims, and empathy for the college administrators as the divestment decisions could affect economic benefits and jeopardize essential endowment returns that support academic programs. Now, I realize these feelings have a name: frustration — the feeling that arises when our needs are not met. In my case, it was the desire for non-aggression. 

People are more likely to act aggressively when they are frustrated. However, how to reduce frustration and decrease future aggression is not a question I can answer on my own. We need conversation — or perhaps many open and honest dialogues — between college educators and students. When academic institutions choose suppression over engagement, they only further alienate students who feel dismissed and as a result would fuel the frustration. To avoid this cycle, universities should prioritize transparency and respect in addressing student concerns. Effective, honest communication could help institutions better address grievances and potentially reduce the intensity of student protests by fostering a sense of accountability and responsiveness. 

Everyday seems to bring new pangs of frustration. However, I hope this negative feeling does not escalate into greater aggression, nor do I want our generation to become desensitized to violence, so accustomed to it that witnessing someone in pain feels like none of my business. In our 20s — a crucial stage of anyone’s development — we unfortunately find ourselves drawn into conflicts over economic, political, and power struggles of the older adults. How can we keep our integrity intact during this era of conflict and avoid becoming hardened products of this violent society? This question is so critical especially if we do not want to continue operating a society in defiance of what we’ve learned: that any acts of aggression are wrong and must be addressed.