On Monday morning, my regular scroll through the New York Times homepage led to the following headline: “Ugandan President Signs Anti-Gay Law That Includes Life in Prison as Penalty.” Well, I thought to myself, that sounds harsh.
I clicked on the link. I learned that President Yoweri Museveni had just signed a bill that calls for life in jail for anyone who engages in gay sex. It also names crimes including “aggravated homosexuality” and “attempted aggravated homosexuality,” which apparently refer to—consummated or attempted, respectively—same sex relations with children, disabled people, or a person who’s unconscious.
Let’s set aside for the moment the implicit claim that homosexual relations with an unconscious person are somehow different from heterosexual relations with an unconscious person. Perhaps the president hasn’t seen the tea video on the importance of consent more generally.
As I read through the article, my reaction to the Ugandan law was one of quiet condemnation. Frankly, it struck me as barbaric. Then, as I started thinking in terms of the Certainty Trap, I remembered my moral outrage can’t simply stand on its own. Avoiding this trap requires me to clarify what’s behind my thinking. So, let’s see how this might work.
When it comes to condemning this law, I can imagine at least two claims someone might make, the first of which I already gave voice to: it’s barbaric. The problem with resting on this as a justification is that “barbaric” is both poorly and subjectively defined. Which means, when it comes to engagement at least, it only makes sense if the other person is on board with my use of the word.
Another possible claim is, it’s homophobic. Homophobia, as most people use the term, requires a fear, dislike, or hatred of gay people. In other words, it speaks, in part, to intent. You may feel you can infer intent from the fact of the legislation itself (as in, how could anyone support this legislation and not be homophobic?). But I doubt it’s how Museveni would describe his policy. In fact, he might even say, offering as proof that he’s not homophobic, that the law doesn’t criminalize being gay, just acting on it. I don’t have to see his argument as compelling in order for it to be relevant.
Let me be clear, I’m not saying the law isn’t barbaric or homophobic. I’m saying that, if I care about something other than being righteously indignant—like engaging, communicating, or simply thinking clearly—my moral outrage should be a clue that I need to think more deeply. In this case, the law’s retrograde-ness (is that a word?) makes the necessary corrective—naming the principle being violated—fairly straightforward.
Here’s one possible candidate: We shouldn’t criminalize the sexual behavior or preferences of consenting adults. And, if I’m being consistent, I would stand by that regardless of whether someone wants a lifetime of vanilla missionary style sex, a different gendered partner each week, or to swing from the chandeliers (provided they aren’t breaking any relevant laws or ordinances about noise or property damage).
Morally, that statement feels largely reflective of my sentiment.
But, I’m not done yet. My declaration is clear, but it leaves open the question of whether I have limits. In other words, could I imagine a situation where two consenting adults wish to engage in sexual behavior that I think should be illegal? What if the thing two people are into is harmful (although “harmful” is another poorly defined term)? If we really want to test the limits of our thinking, we could consider an extreme case: one where two apparently consenting adults engaged in cannibalism (one of the other) as a sexual fetish of sorts.
And, in the end, maybe I’m ok with such a case being legal (as disturbing as I find it)—as long as there’s no coercion. Or maybe I’m not. Maybe my principle is that consenting adults should be allowed to behave sexually however they want (without violating public indecency laws), provided there’s no risk of death. Although then, a determination would have to be made about what constitutes “risk of death.”
The upshot is that, regardless of where I land, forcing myself to be clear in my thinking both moves me beyond righteous indignation and makes my position easier for someone who disagrees to understand. Consider the difference between where we started—the law is barbaric and homophobic—and where we are now—we shouldn’t criminalize the sexual behavior or preferences of consenting adults. Do those seem different to you?
I’ll close with this. It’s not that I can’t or shouldn’t ever use the labels “barbaric” or “homophobic.” It’s that leaning on those terms is a way of giving myself permission to stop thinking. What’s more, it will likely constrain me to communicating only with people who already agree.
I disagree with the Ugandan law. So, is my goal the high that comes with a sense of moral superiority or is it to open up the possibility of engagement? Because, let’s face it, I probably can’t have both.
Please note that much of the writing on this Substack is either derived from or is related to the manuscript, The Certainty Trap (unpublished). For inquiries about the manuscript, please reach out to me directly.
Nice illustration of the approach. "We shouldn’t criminalize the sexual behavior or preferences of consenting adults" opens this from salvo to conversation. It also helps us understand our own views better.
What if you really just want to express your outrage without opening room for dialog? Do you recommend always thinking through the declaration and then deciding which way to run?
Two things come to mind:
1) We're assuming that "moral superiority" is even possible -- we're not moral relativists. I'm on board with that, but it is an assumption. And I suspect that most historical homophobia came from moral absolutists. That's not necessarily a good argument, but it's the sort that's often used ("<X> is bad because in the past group <Y> used <X> to oppress group <Z>")
2) I'll raise your "extreme case". What about prostitution (assuming an ideal world where there's no coercion)?