Personal Voices: One Country, Two Moralities

For four years, I consoled myself with intellectual snobbery. The man was fascinated by that little book about the pet goat, I reminded myself. He asked the president of Brazil if they had blacks too; talked about speaking "Mexican"; joshed with reporters that they ate "Brie and cheese." Surely this was just a poorly acted farce, a sort of Being There starring someone far less astute than a gardener?

The skin of my upper arm turned black and blue from all the pinching I did to remind myself that he was, nonetheless, the president of the United States. Still, I thought, we should be kind. Surely some miswiring deep in the brain had scrambled his speech, impaired his thought process.

But as the death toll rose in Iraq, our president's blatant stupidity made me insane. "The man can't think his way out of a paper bag," I snapped at a Republican colleague at work. "He has the lives of thousands and the future of the world in his hands, and I'm not sure he knows the names of more than three countries."

Shortly before the election, the New York Times reported George W. Bush's SAT scores and an analysis that placed his IQ higher than John Kerry's.

The news stunned me more than his victory.

The possibility that the president might indeed possess a modicum of measurable intelligence should have been reassuring. Except this meant that either he was too arrogant to waste mental effort better spent on the golf course, or he was smart enough to act the fool, charming people who are bothered by big words.

I had to regroup; rethink actions I had deemed stupid and macho and in consequence, cruel. OK, the man might not suffer a cognitive deficit, but he most certainly did not demonstrate the depth or breadth of intelligence I associated with wise, compassionate leadership.

Silly me.

One's greatest strength is one's greatest weakness, and George Bush's is his absolute refusal to tolerate complexity.

I settled back in my chair, smugness returning.

Then a thought jolted me upright.

Was the classic liberal refrain a copout? Do we murmur about complexity because we are incapable of simplifying? Or afraid to be bold and decisive? Are we perhaps so good at being open-minded and tolerant and making excuses for everyone, including ourselves, that we have forgotten to uphold principles that cannot be compromised?

Well, maybe. Under certain conditions.

But I refuse – there, see? I speak boldly – I refuse to accept the current implication that because people voted for Bush for moral reasons, morality lies on his side.

There are indeed sides, but the dividing line is not morality. It is the ability to tolerate uncertainty, complexity, ambiguity, unknowability, relativity.

And this tolerance is less a matter of brainpower than of temperament.

I know this when I am with conservative friends. With one couple, it's a running joke: by mutual agreement, I do not urge abstract art, take them to experimental theatre, or suggest what they call "eclectic" restaurants. They prefer the clarity of classical music; the abiding joys of Shakespeare; the reliability of steak, potatoes, and a wine of known vintage. They are smart and cultured and excellent company, courteous and civilized.

The asymmetry occasionally perturbs me, because I can appreciate their tastes far more readily than they can appreciate mine. But I would wager that our differences have even more to do with genes than they do with upbringing or education. Desire for novelty and risk aversion are both hardwired.

So I must abandon the solace of thinking my political opponents benighted, uneducated and cognitively impaired.

But I refuse to think them more moral.

There are as many moral values at stake in opposing the slaughter of innocent Iraqi children as there are in opposing the abortion of innocent unborn children. As much moral sensitivity in defending the world's wilderness from exploitation as in defending our ... er ... homeland security. And as much moral courage in supporting the rights of people of all sexual orientations as in supporting traditional marriage.