One of the things I have tried to tell my students, which
meets with some resistance, is this:
Moral relativism is the idea that there are no
moral absolutes at all. If a person believes in even the
existence of one moral absolute, they are not a moral relativist. I put
it this way to someone this morning--not everything is black and white, but not
everything is gray.
I am writing this because someone has suggested I am a
moral relativist because I support a woman's right to choose--100% of the time,
in all situations. I do not think any woman who decides to have an
abortion should ever be prevented from having one, no matter what point in the
pregnancy, no matter what the circumstances should be.
I have found that people bat the term moral
relativism around like it is a beachball. I also think that
people do not really understand what the term means. My experience so far
has been, that nobody who tells me I am wrong on this issue has spent the time
in reflective thought I have trying to figure out where the sweet spot is,
where the right place to land is.
This does not mean I am cheering for abortion. I
recently wrote this on Facebook:
Something occurred to me this morning in a different way.
Those who differ with me about abortion, even those who agree with me on some
individual cases, are framing the issue as a dilemma. For them here are the two
possibilities.
1. The baby is born.
Or,
2. The baby is aborted.
But I think the issue is a trilemma.
1. The woman is forced to give birth even if she doesn't
want to.
Or,
2. She chooses to terminate her pregnancy.
Or,
3. She chooses to give birth.
I am pulling for number 3 in every possible circumstance
where her life is not in danger.
I really do not want option 2 unless there is a compelling
medical reason having to do with the mother or the child.
But under no circumstances do I ever want option 1. It seems
to me that the price to be paid in violating a woman's autonomy is just too
high to ever permit a government or a law to force her to give birth if she
doesn't want to. Even if I think she is making the wrong choice, I am going to
stand up for her freedom to choose every single time, no exceptions whatsoever.
This is not a dilemma and it is overly simplistic to make it
one. Figuratively, literally, and spiritually this is a hill I am willing to
die on.
But none of this means I am a moral relativist. In fact, I am not a moral relativist because I
believe it is absolutely wrong, all the time, to tell women what to do with
their bodies. I believe forcing
any woman to give birth against her will is a line we should not ever
cross. That is why I said, “Even
if I think she is making the wrong choice, I am going to stand up for her
freedom to choose every single time, no exceptions whatsoever.”
I have had three moments in my life where I came to points
of overwhelming clarity on issues.
The first is the issue of war. I sat with my ethics professor at Earlham
School of Religion, Wilmer Cooper, throwing out all the typical arguments for
Just War, and he patiently listened. Wil finally said, “You know, our job is
not to figure out consequences. Our job
is simply to do what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount.” And something powerful gripped me to the very
core of my being, and I knew he was right.
It has been 40 years, and the powerful shaking of that experience has
never waned. I cannot shake myself lose
from it. I became an objector to all war
that day, and that vision has never faded.
I am not a moral relativist because I believe war is always wrong. Just War is closer to moral relativism than I
am.
The second has to do with human sexuality. I wrote about this in my book, The
Wilderness I Left Behind. I
was in a cult-like group, and the leader of the cult was a guy named Loran Helm. He had told me that because I had cerebral
palsy there was not a woman holy enough to be willing to marry me. He forbade me from getting married without
his express permission. I did not obey
that order and he had no use for me after that.
I have wondered what he would think now, because I also have Parkinson’s
disease. Anyway, that experience shaped
my thinking, as I wrote:
My position on this changed on a dime, as I listened to
Bill Moyers interview David Boies and Ted Olson, lawyers who opposed each other
in the 2000 Bush v Gore Supreme Court case which settled that year’s
presidential election, as they teamed up to oppose Proposition 8. This case resulted from a 2008 ballot measure
in California banning same-sex marriage.
In the interview, Ted Olson made a statement to the effect that most people
do not know what it is like to be told they are not suitable for marriage. I remember it was like I had been slapped to
get my attention. I thought, “My God, I
know exactly what that feels like.” As I said, my position on this issue turned
on a dime.
The third time was just this year. I always thought abortion should be illegal
except in certain circumstances. I was
talking to my daughter, who said to me, “Dad, that is inadequate because no one
is in a position to define what those circumstances are for another person.” I knew she was right, and again, my
thinking turned on a dime. I
came to the position that, even though someone may decide, wrongly, to get an
abortion, no third party—no government official, no religious leader, no one at
all—could ever possibly make the right decision for someone else here.
I came to believe no abortion should ever be legally prohibited—not
even in the third trimester. People do
not wait until the third trimester to have an abortion just because they do not
want the baby. Third trimester abortions
account for less than 2% of the total number of abortions. I came to see the only way to get this right
was to leave the decision—in all cases—to the woman and those whom she turns
for support and counsel. I believe that
her decision should be unreviewable. I
believe no woman should ever be denied an abortion, not because I think
abortion is good, but because I think no one but the woman has moral standing
to make the decision.
And that is what got me labeled a moral relativist. I don’t care.
