On Moral Relativism and Tolerance
Several people recently have called me a moral relativist, which of course they intend as an insult. And I think it comes from my belief that in interpersonal relationships, I don’t tell other people what to do (unless they ask, of course, and then together we formulate a plan). This is interpreted as a tolerance of sorts, which I agree it is, but tolerance does not equal moral relativism.
I may believe I know what’s right, and have a sound logical process I can easily explain, in plain English, why what I think is right is right. But all that is useless unless I have created an atmosphere where the other person is able to walk through what they believe to be true and be open to evaluating their own logic and where it might be faulty.
My brand of tolerance says: I understand that you believe that it’s okay to use animals for, let’s say the Iditarod or the Yukon Quest, both of which are grueling races that dogs are forced to run of over 1,000 miles. But let’s look at the assumptions underlying why you think it’s okay, and see if they hold up. There are always going to be people for whom anything goes. They like to mush, they like to say the dogs love running to the brink of death (and some die during the races and after from injuries and illnesses contracted during the races), and they’ll never see anything wrong with that. These people don’t interest me because they show no evidence of having a moral compass. I’m never going to change their minds. I don’t deal with them for more than a moment and I consider them toxic. These are the people who call me "crazy" for my commitment to nonviolence.
When I discuss tolerance, it’s within a context of helping someone who’s legitimately interested in truth-seeking. Frankly, I don’t have the skills or the inclination to deal with people who behave without conscience and have thought about it and decided that what they do is fine. I’m saying: Be tolerant, in your interpersonal exchanges, of where the other person is at, and help them move forward.
Me telling you you’re wrong and without morals or insulting you and calling you "moral relativist" is to what end? You’ll never speak to me again. Now what?
As I’ve frequently written, most of my loved ones are not vegans. And I make no demands on them whatsoever. But it is precisely because I accept them for where they are–which is not to be confused with saying their beliefs are acceptable to me or are on par with mine morally, that they are open to revising their moral codes once they have new information or are exposed to logical, rational challenges to what they believe.
That’s not moral relativism at work, that’s effective conversion at work.
