It's Our Right To Challenge Authority

There’s something deeply satisfying about challenging authority. It’s like sneaking the last biscuit from the tin: you know you shouldn’t, but oh, the taste of victory. Authority is forever telling us what to wear, where to stand, and why our tax return is late. Surely it’s our sacred duty to occasionally reply, “Sorry, but that’s absolute codswallop.”

But before you grab your megaphone and pitchfork, a word of caution. Yes, it’s our right to challenge authority — but it’s not our right to stomp all over human rights in the process. Nor is it acceptable to use violence. Throwing bricks through windows doesn’t make you Che Guevara; it makes you a bad-tempered DIY enthusiast.

Take Rosa Parks. She helped kickstart a civil rights movement by… sitting down. That was it. No firebombs, no kung-fu sequences, no Hollywood explosions. Just one woman, one seat, and one simple refusal. Contrast that with today’s self-styled “freedom fighters” who hurl traffic cones at shopfronts. Less “revolutionary” and more “child with a sugar crash in IKEA.”

Here’s the truth: violence is lazy. Anyone can throw a punch. But it takes wit to dismantle authority with words. Sarcasm, in fact, is one of the sharpest non-lethal weapons available. Imagine if protesters replaced bricks with biting one-liners: “Your policy moves slower than my nan’s Wi-Fi.” That would rattle the corridors of power far more than broken glass.

History proves this. Gandhi didn’t march with a cricket bat; he marched with an idea. Martin Luther King didn’t stage a bar brawl; he staged a dream. And let’s be honest, the suffragettes didn’t earn the vote by shouting “freedom” while simultaneously silencing others. They stood up, they spoke out, and they made authority look ridiculous. That’s the trick: ridicule is fatal to power.

Because here’s the thing about human rights — they’re universal. Once you trample them, you’ve already lost. Claiming to defend freedom by intimidating others is like claiming to clean a carpet with more mud. You can’t fight injustice by being unjust, unless your plan is to audition for Hypocrisy: The Musical.

A peaceful protest, on the other hand, is terrifying to those in charge. Not because of broken windows, but because of unbroken conviction. When authority looks in the mirror and sees its reflection mocked, exposed, and laughed at, it panics. You can recover from a bruise. You cannot recover from becoming the punchline.

So yes, challenge authority. Question it, lampoon it, paint it in unflattering cartoons wearing silly hats. But leave the crowbars at home. After all, nobody ever won a moral victory by shouting “justice!” while simultaneously shoving their neighbour.

In the end, challenging authority is less about rebellion and more about responsibility. It’s making sure power doesn’t get too cosy, while making sure we don’t turn into the very tyrants we’re opposing. Done well, it’s cheeky, clever, and disruptive in all the best ways. Done badly, it ends in A&E and a headline that reads: Local Man Mistakes Riot for Revolution.

So go forth. Rattle the cage. Question the rules. Be witty, be bold, be annoying if you must. Just remember: authority deserves mockery, not Molotov's. And yes, you can still have the last biscuit.

This months writing prompt was to write a retort to several newspaper headlines.

Our second challenge was to write both an acrostic and a haiku to sum up the article. I'm not a poet so found this painful. However this below sums it up

Call out injustice
Hold power to account
Arms down, voices up
Laughter beats fear
Liberty for all
Equality first
Never with violence
Go bold, not brutal
Every right matters