Two Paths to Black Activism:

Nina Simone vs Beyoncé

I had a thought the other day. Where are our Nina Simones? Where are the artists who use their platforms to speak truth to power at all costs? Where are the Eartha Kitts? Paul Robesons? Bille Holidays?

We have artist like Beyoncé and she definitely uses her platform to speak out against injustice, but she also seems cozily nestled in the warm bed of capitalism and relevance.

What kind of activism counts as “doing enough”? And who gets to decide?

The truth is, Nina Simone and Beyoncé represent two fundamentally different models of Black artistic resistance—each shaped by their historical moment, political climate, and relationship to power.

Nina Simone: Activism That Burned Bridges on Purpose

Nina Simone practiced what could be called activism at all costs.

Her music was not coded. It was not softened. It was not concerned with marketability or longevity. Songs like “Mississippi Goddam” were explicit protest weapons—naming white supremacy, state violence, and American hypocrisy without apology. She did not seek to remain palatable. She sought to be truthful.

That choice came with consequences.

  • She was surveilled by the FBI

  • Radio stations refused to play her music

  • Promoters and institutions blacklisted her

  • She lost financial stability and industry protection

Nina Simone understood that speaking plainly would cost her access to power—and she accepted that cost. Her activism did not ask, “How do I stay relevant?” It asked, “How do I tell the truth, even if it ruins me?”

This is justice-centered activism:
moral clarity over personal safety, truth over comfort, liberation over legacy.

Beyoncé: Activism That Works Inside Power

Beyoncé’s activism operates differently—not because she cares less, but because she chose a different battlefield.

Her work is symbolic, strategic, and embedded within systems of power, not in open opposition to them. Performances like “Formation” at the Super Bowl, visual projects like Black Is King, and her consistent centering of Black Southern culture, Black womanhood, and African aesthetics are not accidental. They are calculated interventions into mainstream culture.

Beyoncé practices what might be called influence-based activism.

  • She stays visible, wealthy, and powerful

  • She controls her image and her narrative

  • She uses global reach rather than direct confrontation

  • She embeds critique inside spectacle

This form of activism asks:
“How much can I shift culture without losing the megaphone?”

Rather than burning bridges, Beyoncé builds infrastructure—ownership, archives, institutions, and economic pipelines that center Black people. Her power is not in disruption alone, but in sustained presence.

Justice vs. Influence Is a False Binary—but the Tension Is Real

Comparing Nina Simone and Beyoncé often reveals more about our values than about them.

Nina Simone represents the activist who refuses compromise.
Beyoncé represents the activist who refuses dispossession.

One confronts power directly.
The other infiltrates it.

One sacrifices relevance to preserve integrity.
The other preserves relevance to redistribute resources, visibility, and narrative control.

Neither path is “clean.”
Both carry risk.

  • Justice-at-all-costs activism can lead to isolation, exile, and erasure.

  • Power-preserving activism risks dilution, silence, and moral ambiguity.

And yet—history needs both.

Movements require people willing to lose everything and people willing to stay in the room long enough to move the needle.

So… Who Is “Doing Enough”?

That depends on what you believe liberation demands.

If you believe justice requires unfiltered truth, regardless of consequence, Nina Simone will always feel more aligned.
If you believe justice also requires ownership, scale, and long-term cultural control, Beyoncé’s approach may feel not only valid—but necessary.

The mistake is assuming there is only one correct way to fight.

Nina Simone asked the world to change now, no matter the cost.
Beyoncé asks the world to change through culture, even if slowly.

Both are critiques.
Both are resistance.
Both are deeply Black responses to systems that were never designed for Black freedom.

The question isn’t whether Beyoncé could be more like Nina Simone.

The real question is:


Which kind of courage does this moment require—and which kind are you being called to embody?