In recent years, many of us have been confronted with the idea that seemingly benign words, thoughts, or acts can be a source of harm. Here, I am thinking, for instance, of microaggressions (e.g., “where are you really from?”), or of actions in the context of structural injustice; actions which, although not bad in themselves, stabilize harmful structures in society. These are moral matters: asking a person, who speaks with a perhaps audible accent, where they are really from after they have already stated that they are from the US, is often interpreted as a moral mistake because of the message it sends: that one insists that one’s interlocutor is foreign. Let me also give an (admittedly gaudy) example of actions in the context of structural injustice. A little more than two years ago, congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez posted a video on Instagram with a critical tone directed at those who plant cauliflower instead of yuca in their green spaces:
“But when you really think about it — when someone says that it’s ‘too hard’ to do a green space that grows yuca instead of, I don’t know, cauliflower or something — what you’re doing is that you’re taking a colonial approach to environmentalism, and that is why a lot of communities of color get resistant to certain environmentalist movements because they come with the colonial lens on them.”
Charitably, I take her to be suggesting something like this: in many of the world’s places, colonialism set a cultural paradigm. This paradigm shaped, among other things, the languages we speak, the architecture in our cities, and ultimately also the foods we eat. Alternative languages, architectural paradigms, and foods were simultaneously crowded out. However, because we have come to value diversity, we may find it equally valuable to re-diversify what was once homogenized. This point, I think, is not outrageous. Of course, many commentators, who are quite generally not very friendly towards Ocasio-Cortez’s political ideas, were quick to ridicule the point (Is cauliflower racist? Does yuca even grow in New York City?). Clearly, to them, it seemed outrageous that one could become the target of blame and reproach simply by planting a vegetable. This dynamic is characteristic of many of our moral disputes: one party lays out a moral argument aiming to criticize actions of a certain sort; another party ridicules the point arguing that it could not possibly be morally forbidden to act in this way; for instance, that it could not possibly be wrong to plant cauliflower. In this post, I want to suggest that such moral criticism becomes problematic if it fails to be properly measured. If it involves, for instance, blame and harsh reproach. Well-calibrated moral criticism, in contrast, is often apt even in response to seemingly trivial transgressions. The problem, then, is not what but how something is criticized.
Among philosophers, it is not uncommon to hold that morality is, in some sense, overriding. The basic intuition behind this idea is that moral considerations are decisive in that they can be challenged only by other moral considerations. For instance, if I promised to return the book that you borrowed from the library but then fail to return it, I can’t hope to avoid your blame by stating merely non-moral considerations, for instance, that I felt like watching TV instead. In contrast, the fact that I had to give medical assistance to a person (i.e., a competing moral consideration) while I was on my way to the library does count as a viable excuse. Thus, moral considerations decide how I should act, all things considered. Non-moral considerations (e.g., that I felt like watching TV), in contrast, cannot justify flouting a moral demand (e.g., to keep my promises).
Let’s now go back to Ocasio-Cortez’s yuca-v-cauliflower example to apply this insight. While the reason against planting cauliflower is clearly moral, the reason for planting cauliflower is not moral at all (i.e., a gustatory preference for cauliflower over yuca). Given that morality is overriding, my gustatory preference for cauliflower seems to have little weight in justifying my gardening choices. Consequently, I seem to be rationally forced not to plant cauliflower. While to some (to Ocasio-Cortez?) this may seem like welcome news, to others, this seems outrageous. After all, may I not plant whatever I want in my garden? Let’s continue on with our analysis for a bit.
Philosophers commonly distinguish between deontic assessments, for instance, in terms of what we ought to do, or what it would be right or wrong to do, and purely evaluative assessments, for instance, in terms of what it would be best, better, or worse to do. While the morally best thing I could do right now might be to pledge all my belongings to a valuable cause and donate one of my kidneys, it is not wrong not to do so. Sometimes it is permissible not to do what is best. Maybe, this distinction can help us find a place for the kinds of moral transgressions discussed just above. Although planting cauliflower might not be the best thing we can do with our garden space, it may nevertheless be permissible (i.e., not wrong) to plant it. And, coming back to a case of microaggression, while it might sometimes not be the best thing to ask where someone is from, it might still be permissible to do so. Of course, here, as always, our verdicts need to be subtle and sensitive to the details of the cases at hand; and yet, in thinking about some of these cases, I find that we need to be open to the idea that deontic assessments in terms of what is right and wrong should at times give way to purely evaluative assessments. The philosopher Elizabeth Harman has poignantly labelled such cases “morally permissible moral mistakes”.
Why are these distinctions important? Why does it matter whether moral criticism is based on deontic or merely evaluative assessments? Well, morally permissible moral mistakes are, after all, permissible, which gives those who commit them a powerful excuse. After all, how could someone be blamed or reproached for doing what is permissible? How could we justifiably demand that those who act permissibly change their ways? Intuitively, morally permissible moral mistakes require a different, milder, form of engagement: reproach should give way to suggestions, demands to requests, and angry confrontation perhaps to mild forms of disappointment. Successful moral criticism, is, thus, not a license to blame, and accepting such criticism may not give rise to a requirement to change one’s ways.
When I choose not to donate a kidney to a needy stranger, I do not make a morally permissible mistake. I don't think I make any kind of mistake. I mean, the very fact that it's permissible means it is one of the things I can choose to do *without counting as having made a moral mistake*.
So maybe its just the nomenclature that's inapt. Perhaps we should say that choosing not to donate a kidney is more like a suboptimal moral act. Perfectly moral, but not the absolute moral best.
However, if microaggressions are merely suboptimal moral acts, like choosing not to donate a kidney, then I'm not sure why they are open to any kind of criticism, even expressions of mild disappointment. What business do others have criticizing me for keeping my own kidneys? I would surely deserve *praise* for volunteering to donate a kidney, but that doesn't mean I deserve *censure* for choosing otherwise.
If the analogy is apt, perhaps we should praise those who avoid micro-aggressions for their supererogatory virtues, while passing no judgment whatsoever on those who do not.