It's All Relative. Except, of Course, for Relativism

 

My friend Antiochus is under the false impression that absolutists—those who believe in absolute values—are difficult to talk to. He writes “In my experience, once an absolutist has decided something, there's not much of anything another person can say or do to dissuade him from continuing to see things a certain way.”

In fact, he has this exactly wrong. The current breakdown in civil discourse in the US, Canada, and Europe is directly traceable to the rise of relativism. Absolutists can discuss anything at all civilly, and come to agreement. Relativists cannot.

 If you are convinced something is true, you are of course not easily going to change your mind about it. But is this a problem? Why does that matter/ If a scientist is adamant that the earth is round, is it a problem that you cannot convince him that the earth is flat as a manhole cover?

More importantly, if he is convinced that it is true that the earth is round, he will have no problem discussing the matter with you, hearing you out, and not forcing his opinion on you. He will try to convince you of his view, confident that he can. If he cannot, he is not troubled: he simply knows something you don’t know. This is entirely to his advantage.

Antiochus objects that this is a fabricated example: so let’s look at real world examples. Einstein’s Theory of Relativity in 1905 upended the accepted Newtonian view of physics. Did an irresistible force meet an unmovable object? Rather, Einstein won the argument, quick and simple. Just as Newton won the argument—there really was no argument—against Euclid in his day. So did Chomsky, with one famous article, in the late fifties, that neatly disproved the behaviourism that had been the standard view of psychology at the time.

Granted, things do not always go that smoothly. But that is the way it is supposed to work, and by and large how it does. The great thing about absolutism is that both sides have absolute standards to which they can appeal in case of disagreement. If either party is a relativist, there is no way to resolve disagreement.

The problem comes when someone is trying to promote an idea they do not themselves believe is true. Only then does it matter whether they can impose it on others. Only relativists will refuse to discuss and will try to impose their ideas.

The classic example of an absolutist is a philosopher. The point of philosophy is to seek absolutes: the good (ethics), the true (ontology) and the beautiful (aesthetics). 

Philosophers are notably disinclined to impose their views on others. They tend, in a word, to be philosophical about things.

Religious people are also absolutists. The obvious example of absolutism in religion is the Catholic Church: it holds a body of dogmas to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. 

But the Catholic Church—or any religion—is incapable of imposing their views on anyone else. Adherence to any faith is voluntary, and even if you sign up, the Church has no power other than moral suasion: they only tell you things. Note that most Catholics, and most adherents of any religion, are positively eager to discuss their or another’s beliefs.

What, you might object, about militant Islamists? To which I respond that these are not religious absolutists, but religious relativists. Look into any “Muslim terrorist,” and you will find someone who was never thought of by their friends or family as particularly religious, who had a secular rather than a religious education, who knew little about their nominal faith. In short, they thought its truth was highly questionable, which is the only reason they would find any need to impose it on others. Or would feel it threatened. If, after all, you are convinced that God is behind it, and you, wouldn’t you assume it is bound to prevail without your taking any extreme measures into your own hands?

What about, say, the persecution of Catholics in England under Henry VIII?

Henry was the ultimate religious relativist. He switched religion just to get a divorce. This is why he felt he needed to impose the new faith. As a relativist, he found religious absolutists threatening.

The ultimate religious absolutist would be a monk in a monastery. Not a lot of terrorism in a monastery.

The obvious example of absolutism in politics is the doctrine of human rights. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

It is fair to say there has been some effort to impose this doctrine on others: in Germany or Japan after the Second World War, in Britain’s century-long battle against the slave trade, in the American Civil War.

I am unashamedly an absolutist on this; I believe in the existence of inalienable human rights, and I think it is proper to fight to defend them. Because I am an absolutist, however, I am also at least perfectly happy to discuss the matter, if anyone else does not agree with the concepts of human equality or human rights.

Let us compare relativism. Fascism is relativism. Mussolini, its chief theoretician, said as much in as many words. Because truth and morality were up for grabs, Hitler or Mussolini saw the propriety of imposing whatever was their will, or seemed to their benefit; or that of the German or Italian nation.

Marxism is also relativist: Marx held that everything was “ideology,” imposed on us by our social and economic system, and nobody—except, presumably, Karl Marx, in an obvious logical contradiction—could see beyond this to any absolute truth or morality.

And where have Fascism and Marxism led us? Granted, if you are a moral relativist, the deaths of millions may have no particular significance… as it did not to Mao or Stalin or Hitler; that, sadly, is a given.

But are you, gentle reader, prepared to declare yourself a relativist now?