Originally published as "Angry Lesbians and Right-Wing
Nutcases" in Between the Lines.
In a few weeks I'll be doing a "Michigan tour" debating same-sex
marriage with Glenn Stanton of Focus on the Family. People
sometimes ask me whether I ever encounter hostile audience members
at these debates (I do).
"Which kind do you fear the most?" they press. "Rednecks? Bible
thumpers? Skinheads?"
Actually, none of the above. The audience members that scare me
the most-that strike fear into my very core-are the Angry
Lesbians.
I'm only half-joking here. You know the type I'm talking about.
They need not be female, much less lesbian. But they are
technically on my side, and they're pissed off.
They're angry at my opponent for his anti-gay views (both real
and imagined). They're angry at me for my willingness to engage in
friendly dialogue with that opponent. They're angry at the event
organizers for setting the whole thing up, as well as for not
providing (take your pick):
(a) Free parking.
(b) Better seating.
(c) More Q&A time.
(d) Universal health care.
They're angry at the world generally, and they want you and
everyone else to know it.
There are times when I say sincerely, "Thank heaven for Angry
Lesbians." (I capitalize the term as a reminder that it represents
a character type. As I've already remarked, AL's need not actually
be lesbians: some of the best examples I've known are men.)
AL's perform an important service: they jolt us out of our
complacency. They remind us that the issues I debate from a
comfortable dais, in a well-lit, climate-controlled room, can have
life-or-death implications. Yes, AL's make us uncomfortable, but
sometimes we should be uncomfortable.
Sometimes, but not always. Sometimes it's nice to sit back
comfortably and have a civil academic discussion.
I say that not just because I enjoy such discussions. I say it
because such discussions can be conducive to our community's shared
goals-far more so, I think, than simply screaming at our opponents
all the time.
Let's be clear about something: I don't debate Glenn Stanton to
convince Glenn Stanton (although I'd like to believe I have some
positive effect on him). And I don't debate Glenn Stanton to
convince the Angry Lesbians. I debate Glenn Stanton to convince the
fence-sitters: ordinary people who make up the bulk of society.
They might think same-sex marriage is a little weird, but they
might also be willing to support it if we make a strong case.
Glenn's presence helps me to do that even better, since it gives
me a chance to create "the clearer perception and livelier
impression of truth, produced by its collision with error," in the
words of the great liberal theorist John Stuart Mill. Mill
understood that truth is durable: it need not fear open dialogue.
"Got a counterargument? Bring it on!" Mill might say.
"But doesn't debating someone from Focus on the Family give
legitimacy to that side? You wouldn't debate someone from the KKK,
would you?" I've often been asked.
No, I wouldn't. But there are at least two key differences here.
One (and it's a biggie) is that Glenn Stanton does not want us
killed. There's a serious difference between opposing same-sex
marriage and advocating violence against gays. Although it may be
tempting to label all of our opponents as "right-wing nutcases,"
doing so is both inaccurate and irresponsible.
Granted, these debates don't occur in a vacuum, and some of
Stanton's supporters may choose to warp his message. But the
debates provide an opportunity for us jointly to prevent such
misinterpretation-indeed, it's rare that I get a chance to talk to
his supporters otherwise. Granted, too, that the policies he
advocates are not merely wrongheaded; they're harmful. They
needlessly make people's lives more difficult, in serious and
palpable ways. The debates provide an opportunity to point this
out, forcefully and publicly.
The other reason the KKK analogy falls apart is political
reality. The KKK is indisputably a fringe group, reviled by most
Americans. Not so for same-sex marriage opponents, who have won in
every state where they've put anti-gay constitutional amendments
before voters. Like it or not, we have yet to capture the
mainstream on this issue.
I'd like to think that someday, debating same-sex marriage
opponents will be as much a waste of time as debating
flat-earthers. Until then, we've got work to do-angry lesbians and
philosophy professors alike.