A new look at social justice

I have been reflecting recently on the social justice movement, having become acquainted with a few of its more passionate advocates. I was intrigued at first by the name. Does the adjective “social” describe the sphere in which justice is needed, or does it modify justice so as to create a new sense of the word? I believe that the answer is a bit of both. Social justice is not the John Wayne style of justice in which one ferrets out bad guys with a Winchester or a Colt-45 and throws them in jail. The movement seeks to combat problems that are systemic in scope like chronic poverty, racism, or modern-day slavery, with tools that are structural in nature, modifying the economy, the government, or even basic ways of thinking so that bad outcomes become less likely.

I sympathize with the aspirations cited, and others besides them, and I offer the following thoughts with the goal of helping, not hindering, those causes. First, while a systemic analysis of social problems can be quite powerful, it is not all-sufficient as a diagnostic tool. Second, while many structures in our society merit reformation, others make possible the very activism that social justice advocates engage in, and so deserve appreciation and even active defense from forces that would corrode them.

A concrete example will help to illustrate the first point. Several years ago in China a hardworking young man named Peng befriended me as I was exploring his city. After several weeks of amiable language exchange, he invited me to meet his family in the countryside. There I was introduced to his brother Pang. Pang had been an ace student in middle school and was on track for admittance to the best high school in the region—an auspicious launching pad for university admission. However, that hope was snuffed out when the parents of another student bought Pang’s slot with a bribe. Were there social factors at play, pushing the offending family toward bribery? Quite possibly—and if so they should be addressed where appropriate. But in the last analysis, all of those factors would have become moot if the choice had been made not to steal what had not been earned.

As for the second point, I have on occasion heard social justice activists lambasting American social structures in terms that manifest a disdain for the entire edifice. But have you every wondered how many nanoseconds a social justice rally would last in downtown Pyongyang? The only reason that we have the liberty to be activists is because of this society’s emphasis on free speech and a free exchange of ideas, ideals that in many countries exist only in theory, if at all. Extreme positions may score points with the choir but they also threaten the longevity of this liberty, limited though it may be. The close scrutiny given to post-Minutemen events in Lerner is an example of this.

In the pre-Civil War period, abolitionists—the forebears of all social activists—were incensed over the tremendous systemic injustice of slavery. They were also hotly divided on tactics. William Lloyd Garrison was stridently opposed to all compromise with the existing government. The Constitution, he famously declared, was a “covenant with death and an agreement with hell” that should be annulled because of its compromises with slavery. Others, among them William Jay—son of Columbia’s John Jay—advocated a policy of “moral suasion.” Their strategy was to persuade individuals, through opinion pieces, petitions, and public speeches, to oppose slavery. And they aimed to give no offense in word or deed—apart from their stance on abolition—because they treasured the liberties that made possible their protests.

Garrison’s position was the more emotionally gratifying, and for those who valued ideological purity above all else, he was tops. But if you actually wanted to eradicate slavery you would be relieved that his views did not prevail. He promoted a wide range of controversial views, and while his rhetoric won attention, it also alienated the general public. More importantly, his strategic stance was untenable, for if the Constitution had been annulled, the South would have departed and slavery would have been perpetuated there indefinitely.

The strategy of moral persuasion, in contrast, appeared ineffective for well over two decades. Yet its proponents were possessed of a strange confidence derived from the justness of their cause. Jay once wrote to a friend, “I do not entertain … the slightest apprehension that the cause we espouse will not finally triumph.” And indeed, little by little, as abolitionist activists fanned out over the northern states, a constituency was created that became a core component of Lincoln’s Republican Party in 1860. But for those activists, being on the side of justice was not only a matter of choosing a just cause, it also meant being judicious in their advocacy. These are principles that still merit imitation today.

The author is a student in the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences.

Tags: Opinion, Ben Lyons, social justice