Readers of this column occasionally complain that I'm too nice
to our enemies. They may have a point.
I'm an easygoing person by nature. It's not a deliberate
strategy; it's just who I am. Usually the trait serves me well,
though there are times I wish I had a reputation as more of an
asshole. People generally steer clear of assholes, for fear of
provoking them, and intimidation has its uses.
Even though my being "Mr. Nice Guy" wasn't chosen for strategic
purposes, I try to work it to my advantage. It gives me influence
with a certain group of people. And it's shaped my career as a
gay-rights advocate, one who aims for thoughtful engagement with
the other side.
Such engagement can be productive. For one thing, the more our
opponents know us personally, the harder it is for them to demonize
us. (Not impossible, obviously, but harder.) Part of my life's
mission is to create cognitive dissonance for those who would label
all gays as angry deviants.
But engagement is also important because, like it or not, our
opponents still capture majorities in most states. I don't doubt
that the tide is shifting strongly in our favor, but we've got a
lot of work to do. One effective way to reach the movable middle is
to take opponents' concerns seriously.
I say "one effective way," not "the only effective way." There's
a place for militant activism. And I'm not just saying that because
I like getting along with people-militant activists included. I
really believe it.
There's a character type in the GLBT community that we might
refer to as the Angry Queers. (It's a caricature, to be sure, but
like any good caricature it captures something important.) They're
angry, and they want everyone to know it.
They're angry at our opponents. They're angry at me for civilly
engaging those opponents. They're angry at the schools who host our
debates, for giving the opposition a platform, as well as for not
providing (take your pick): (a) free parking; (b) accessible
seating; (c) more Q&A time; (d) universal health care.
They're angry at the world generally, and they're going to let
everyone know it.
There are times when I'm sincerely grateful for Angry Queers.
They jolt us out of our complacency. They remind us that these
issues can have life-or-death implications. Yes, they make us
uncomfortable, but sometimes we should be uncomfortable.
So they have their role, and I have mine. Both have their
uses.
It's tempting to cast the resulting alliance as a "Good Cop/Bad
Cop" strategy. Tempting, but not so easy. For when it comes to
moral issues, "Good Cop/Bad Cop" seems unstable-maybe even
unsustainable.
In this debate, the Good Cop tells opponents, "You have
reasonable concerns-just like the many other decent people who
share your views. Let's hear those concerns so we can address them
thoughtfully."
The Bad Cop tells opponents, "Your 'concerns' are prejudice,
pure and simple. And the best way to stamp out prejudice is to make
life as uncomfortable as possible for anyone who tries to express
it. That's how society handles bigots: we don't accommodate them;
we ostracize them."
Needless to say, these strategies are at cross purposes. One
cannot simultaneous tell people that one wants to hear their
concerns and also that they'd better shut up if they know what's
good for them.
I don't pretend to have an easy answer to this dilemma. The
debate is unlike, say, the health-care debate, where everyone
agrees that healing the sick is a good thing, and the disagreement
is over who pays for it and how.
The gay-rights debate is a debate about whether our deep
romantic commitments are a good thing. It's about the nature of
family, the authority of scripture, and other core moral issues. It
cuts far deeper than "who pays for it and how?" (which, admittedly,
has its own moral entanglements).
I agree with the Angry Queers that the other side is wrong-badly
wrong, wrong in ways that profoundly harm innocent people. And I
can understand their desire to marginalize anyone who doubts the
moral value of our relationships. I get it. I get it strategically,
and I get it personally.
But, for reasons both strategic and personal, I can't join their
approach. So I keep doing my "Good Cop" thing, hoping for synergy
in this unstable but necessary alliance.