Throwing food at art is stupid.

The climate protesters who opt to use famous works of art to publicize their protest – mashed potatoes on Monet, soup on Van Gogh, and gluing their heads and hands to a Vermeer – are very dumb.

Their cause is certainly just. Their sense of urgency is understandable and necessary. Their alarm is needed more today than ever before.

But your protest should not cause your target audience to despise you.

You should not attack beauty in hopes of making the world a better place.

You should not ruin the day for a family who may have one and only chance to see a Monet now covered in mashed potatoes.

Happily, all of these works of art are just fine. Sheltered behind glass, these protests are causing no permanent damage. Perhaps the protesters even knew that their potatoes and soup and clue would not cause any permanent damage, but they still are foolish in their strategy, decision-making, and communication.

The first, best, and most important way to get someone to believe in your cause is to get them to believe in you.

As I’ve said before, people don’t believe in ideas nearly as much as they believe in people who have ideas. If you want to change public sentiment, arouse awareness, strengthen resolve, or create a sense of urgency, do not take actions that cause a majority of your target audience to dislike you, despise you, or even hate you.

Of all the targets for your ire, do not choose beauty.

I understand the rationale behind the protests. As activists shouted at the National Gallery in London,  “What is worth more, art or life? Are you more concerned about the protection of a painting or the protection of our planet?”

Unfortunately, there is a reasonable answer to these questions:

Both.

Protect the planet. Also, protect the beauty that makes our planet so special.

Not all of these climate activists’ decisions have been quite this stupid.

For example, climate activists spray-painted the facade of the famous Harrods department store and an Aston Martin showroom, which are beacons for consumerism and consumption. They smeared chocolate cake on a wax sculpture of King Charles III at Madame Tussauds. They’ve splashed paint on the headquarters of a U.K. fossil fuels lobbying group.

These acts of protest make more sense.

But they also routinely block traffic, causing roads in Europe to be closed for hours at a time. In October, an activist scaled the support cables on the Queen Elizabeth II Bridge outside of London, forcing police to shut down traffic over the Thames River.

I understand the urgency they are trying to create and the attention for their cause that they so righteously seek, but if your protest prevents a parent from arriving to school on time to pick up their child, stops a father from witnessing the birth of his daughter, keeps a grandchild from attending her grandmother’s eightieth birthday party, or makes an entrepreneur late for the biggest pitch of his life, you’re not going to convince them that you are someone deserving of attention.

Activists should seek allies at every turn. They should look to build connections with potential supporters. They should raise awareness and educate the public in ways that are loud, audacious, and eye-catching by targeting the perpetrators of the problem and not their potential partners.

Not everyone agrees with me. Irish musician Bob Geldof, for example, said the activists who threw soup on the Van Gogh painting were “1000% right.”

“They’re not killing anyone,” he told the U.K.’s Radio Times. “Climate change will.”

Sure, but did that soup make a lick of difference?

Did it change the behavior of even a single person?

Did it recruit others to the cause?

Did it spur legislation designed to curb CO2 emissions?

The measure of the success of a protest should not be, “It didn’t kill anyone.”

The measure of success should be, “Did it inspire anyone?”

I don’t think these protests did.

In fact, in many cases, I think it probably did the opposite.