Now the language of good and evil is returning to America

Star Tribune
October 3, 2001
Katherine Kersten

Many Americans expect our lives to change as a result of the terrorist acts of Sept. 11. Most anticipate longer lines at the airport, heightened scrutiny at borders, and a new uneasiness when driving through tunnels. But something much more important and intangible may also change, without much fanfare. We may begin to see the eclipse of moral relativism, a worldview that has dominated our thinking for the last 50 years.
Moral relativism, a philosophical stance whose roots lie in 19th-century Europe, holds that truth is relative. In the relativist view, there is no absolute good or evil, right or wrong. There are merely individual perceptions of truth, which are not objectively grounded in nature or reason, but simply reflect personal taste or circumstances. We cannot judge others' behavior -- after all, their views of what's good may differ from ours. Different strokes for different folks, with no vision of truth inherently better than any other.

In America, we can see evidence of relativism's advance all around us. One casualty is our traditional moral vocabulary, which has increasingly given way to morally neutral language. We no longer speak of virtues, but of "values," which we choose for ourselves to reflect our personal tastes. We do not strive to develop moral character in our children, but put our energy into fostering their "self-esteem." ("I love myself for who I am.") We no longer tell young people bluntly that hitting, or premarital sex, are wrong. Instead, we feebly protest that these behaviors are "inappropriate" or "unhealthy."

Moral language comes no more easily in the sphere of foreign affairs. During the Cold War, commentators regularly portrayed the United States and the Soviet Union as morally equivalent superpowers. Both nations, they insisted, were motivated by greed and self-interest, and were equally to blame for the world's troubles. Ronald Reagan labeled the Soviet Union an "evil empire," condemning its rapacious worldwide campaign against democracy. His statement earned him the contempt of all "well-informed" people, and confirmed in their minds the Neanderthal status of his views.

Moral relativism's influence is also visible in our schools. Today, many schools devote little attention to the principles, documents and institutions at the heart of American democracy.

Instead, they focus disproportionately on "multicultural ism," a pedagogical theory which holds (explicitly or implicitly) that no way of organizing society is inherently better than others, or more likely to lead to human flourishing. In the world's bazaar of cultures, the theory goes, American democracy is only one alternative. We might prefer our way of life, of course, but only because we're accustomed to it.

In the view of multicultural ists, good and evil are not at stake in the clash of nations or cultural groups. Such clashes merely represent differences in perspectives or "values." They are essentially misunderstandings, whose source lies in accidents of history, culture or geography. As a result, international conflicts can be resolved through negotiation, and prevented in the future by better communication.

The events of Sept. 11 pose a serious challenge to the worldview of moral relativism. As Americans watched the World Trade Center collapse, they realized -- for the first time since the rise of Hitler -- that they had come face to face with true evil. Osama bin Laden and Afghanistan's Taliban government embrace a system of beliefs that is irreconcilable with America's belief in the dignity of the individual, representative government and the rule of law. Our nation's dispute with Bin Laden and the Taliban is manifestly not a clash of culturally conditioned perspectives, which can be reconciled by better understanding. It is a battle of two visions of truth, which cannot coexist.

In the wake of the World Trade Center atrocity, the language of good and evil is returning to America. Not surprisingly, the language of religion -- long banished from our public square -- is returning with it. After the terrorist attack, Americans participated in a national day of prayer and remembrance. They heard elected officials read from the Bible at a service at the National Cathedral, and found themselves passing "God Bless America" signs on neighborhood gas station and drug store marquees.

There is a reason for this. In America, it is hard to speak the language of good and evil without using religious words and categories. For our republic's founding principles spring directly from our Judeo-Christian heritage.

Our nation is built on truths that our founders held to be self-evident. They believed that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." These truths not only formed our nation's cornerstone. They also inspired its subsequent struggle to remedy its most serious flaws: a tolerance of slavery and the second-class status of women.

The events of Sept. 11 have indelibly reminded us that our allegiance to freedom and self-government is not just a cultural artifact. It grows from transcendent truths, which shine as a beacon of hope for people everywhere. These truths are self-evidently good, and that which opposes them is nothing less than evil.

-Katherine Kersten is a senior fellow of the Center of the American Experiment in Minneapolis.