Civility and outrage can make effective bedfellows
Closer look: Restaurant sit-ins during the civil rights movement
I met a colleague and friend for coffee recently. Of course, the talk inevitably turned to politics, with the topic of the day being: What is the responsible course of action when issues are so fundamental that extraordinary measures may be required?
It's a recurring challenge of conscience in a democratic political system. It's an ideologically neutral dilemma. It could be about police practices, abortion, vaccines, mask mandates, climate change or a perceived unjust war. Peaceful protest within the law should be the norm. But it's become clear that norms are losing their power.
One's moral code might imply strong action. But how one objects has real consequences. It could mean violence; it can mean incivility. But it doesn't have to. And it shouldn't. Outrage tempered by civility often works when other methods fail. Intemperate language, assembly and even incivility can all be part of legitimate, even essential political protest. But going further raises real problems. A political system cannot simply build in outrage as a special case that allows people to circumvent fundamental constraints on behavior. Righteous anger turned to incivility often feels good. And outrage can be addictive. It is also transmittable. Others respond in kind. And the bar gets lowered with each response. Authoritarian systems respond with often brute force. Democratic systems have no choice but to respond with firmness.
Chaos is not an option in a democratic society
There is no shortage of passion on fundamental issues. Passionate arguments can easily become nonnegotiable demands driven by moral certainty. But intense emotion cannot justify abandoning a fundamental respect for the rule of law. Chaos is not an option. There is a hierarchy of principles in a complex democratic society. Tolerance and civil discourse rank have always appeared near the top. Both have been obvious casualties of disagreement's spiral into anger. It's almost as if the very concepts are now viewed as an expression of weakness or a lack of commitment to a cause.
Henry David Thoreau's "Resistance to Civil Government" provides a responsible and effective answer to a question that should be asked more often: What action is responsive to one's sense of moral imperative while also respectful of our fundamental need for tolerance and the rights of others?
Accepting the consequences
Civil disobedience is civil, often silent, orderly violation of a law to make a fundamental moral point. Action must be focused on that point. Civil disobedience requires accepting the consequences of one's actions. That's critical because it recognizes the legitimacy of institutions while objecting strongly to their decisions.
Any responsible decision to express moral reprobation must include an appeal to those beyond one's circle of agreement. It's much more effective when it's framed around fundamental, universal principles of conscience bolstered by the power of visual imagery.
There is probably no better example of outrage in the service of moral principle than the restaurant sitins during the civil rights movement. Before the Civil Rights Act of 1964, owners of hotels, restaurants and retail establishments could legally refuse to serve African Americans. Their refusal could be encapsulated: “It is my property. I have a right to serve whom I wish.”
Those who participated in the sit-ins said in effect: “No more refusals to serve. The roads, sidewalks, police and fire protection that allow you to run this business are paid for by everyone.” The protesters occupied the available seats, refused to leave, then peacefully submitted to removal and arrest, just as Rosa Parks had peacefully refused to yield her seat on a Montgomery bus to a white passenger.
The images surrounding each event had incredible persuasive power. It's no accident that two of the most moving displays at the National Civil Rights Museum depict Rosa Parks and the lunch counter sit-ins. These actions compelled the consciousness of the majority and were codified in the public accommodations section of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
Anger channeled through unlawful but peaceful action helped bring about just and lasting results.
William Lyons is Director of Policy Partnerships for the Howard Baker Jr. Center for Public Policy and Professor Emeritus of Political Science at the University of Tennessee.