When Hypocrisy Becomes the Hyphen Between Thought, Word, and Action
Anita Vallabh
This reflection has been on my mind for a while. As I prepare for GIA’s Fall issue, I feel the need to speak about the gap between what we say and what we do — and how silence, even my own, can deepen that divide.
In the language of social justice, words come easily. We speak of fairness, equality, and respect. Institutions publish statements, teachers echo principles, and artists proclaim their commitment to inclusion. But the true measure, as I have begun to notice in myself and in others, is not in the words—it is in the actions that follow.
When hypocrisy becomes the hyphen between thought, word, and action, intention and practice are no longer aligned. That hyphen—silent, invisible—holds apart what should be whole.
We notice it when schools celebrate diversity in brochures and websites, yet silence students who speak against the system. We notice it in the arts when teachers, perched on imagined pedestals, quote lofty phrases like Raso vai saḥ—“essence is rasa”—while masking abuses with lies, belittling words, and humiliation. We notice it when speaking up is encouraged, but questioning systemic unfairness or “VIP treatment” in learning spaces is ignored or ridiculed. And we notice it when organizations adopt codes of conduct but enforce them selectively, depending on privilege or power.
I, too, have made mistakes—silence being the greatest of them. But to paraphrase Maya Angelou: when I knew better, I did better. Speaking up is the first step in loosening the manacles of hypocrisy that bind thought and word.
The danger of hypocrisy is not only betrayal—it is erosion. Students, artists, and communities begin to lose trust. They learn to doubt both word and deed. And creativity cannot thrive where trust has been corroded.
When hypocrisy becomes the hyphen between thought, word, and action, the cost is more than moral failure—it is the loss of possibility, of trust, of creativity itself.
To break the hyphen, we must bring thought, word, and action into alignment. That requires accountability, humility, and the courage to correct our own missteps. Social justice is not a performance; it is a practice. And in the spaces where we teach and create, it must be lived—every day, in every gesture.
Who better than artists to bell the cat?
Have you seen this hyphen at work in your own community? Share your stories of courage below.