Alan Sokal on guilt by association

All of us who have taken heterodox positions on even a single issue are liable to be tarred using accusations of guilt by association. Because I think that trans-identifying men should not be allowed to compete in sports against (biological) women, and that such trans people therefore don’t have exactly the same unlimited “rights” as  biological women, I am therefore often called a “transphobe”, allied with those nutjobs who don’t want trans people to have any rights—or even allied with Nazis. This of course is not an argument, but a simple slur that avoids the ethical issues, and it’s thoughtless, though such arguments do convince some of the witless. (If you want to see a site whose whole method is to go after people—especially Steve Pinker—by showing who they’ve met or are otherwise associated with, go here. The author of that site appears to know nothing of science, but uses association with hereditarians as a sign of being an overall horrible person: a “ghoul” or a “grifter.” LOL.)

Alan Sokal has pointed out the stupidity of guilt-by-association arguments in a short piece in The Critic (click below, or find it archived here):

Sokal’s introductory story is about a 12-year-old boy demonized by his teacher because he made a comment that reminded her of Margaret Thatcher. And that’s how it goes: back then, being like Thatcher in even one misconstrued way was enough to damn you to hell. Sokal then segues, unsurprisingly, into the demonizing regularly practiced by sex and gender extremists:

I’m no fan of Margaret Thatcher — to put it mildly — but should it really be a surprise that on some issues she might have the same ideas as pinko me? Is it truly so difficult for us lefties to concede that the conservatives might occasionally — OK, very occasionally — be right? (And of course vice versa.) Have we all now become so politically tribal that we are unable — or simply unwilling — to evaluate ideas on their merits?

[Philosopher Arianne] Shahvisi’s recounting of this story did not, of course, come out of the blue. The context was an essay of hers in which she accused “gender critical feminists” (the scare quotes are hers) of “fairy-tale fear-mongering that puts them in league with the far right”. One reader objected to “yet another article belittling gender critical feminists in your pages”:

Many who consider themselves left-leaning progressives are branded as being ‘in league with the far right’ for their opposition to an ideology which they regard as a dangerously regressive move by patriarchal capitalism to seize control of, and profit from, the bodies of children (increasingly young girls) and women.

— adding, astutely, that “it is telling that trans men are relatively invisible in all this: no one is chanting ‘Trans men are men’”. Unfazed by this exposure of her conflation of two radically different ideologies, Shahvisi doubled down on guilt-by-association, using her childhood story as “evidence”.

Sokal shouldn’t need to point out the obvious, but this tactic is ubiquitous these days, and we shouldn’t even engage in argument with people who judge people’s views solely by who those people associate with, or what magazines they sometimes read:

There is, in reality, nothing surprising or objectionable about the fact that people who disagree on issues X, Y and Z might nevertheless find themselves in agreement on issue W. Indeed, it is the contrary — unanimity of views within each tribe, with no overlap between them — that ought to be surprising and disconcerting.

But serious ethical and pragmatic questions nevertheless arise whenever one finds that people with whom one is ordinarily in disagreement — and whose ultimate goals differ radically from one’s own — may be on the same side as oneself on one or more discrete questions of public policy. Should one cooperate with “the other side” on those particular issues? And if so, to what extent?

Well, I regularly find myself tucked in bed with extreme conservatives, but that, to me, is not a problem, I just give my own views, and work on my own, not really “cooperating” with anybody. That’s one way to at least mitigate the tarring by association. I’ll quote Sokal at length when he extends Shahvisi’s argument:

So let’s follow Shahvisi’s example, but first set the facts straight by specifying more accurately what each tribe believes. Gender-critical feminists want to abolish, or at least to weaken, prescriptive gender norms: they want to liberate people of both sexes to pursue their own interests and talents and to follow their predilections, without regard to sex-based stereotypes or statistics. Social conservatives want to strengthen prescriptive gender norms: to reestablish a world in which men are masculine and women are feminine, in the traditional senses of the words, and everyone is at least publicly heterosexual. (These are, it goes without saying, broad-strokes generalizations; there are of course many differences of emphasis and detail within each camp.) The two philosophies are thus diametrically opposed[1].

But, despite this deep overall conflict, can there sometimes exist small points of agreement between the two tribes? Yes, there can; and this gives rise to serious dilemmas.

Should gender-critical feminists cooperate with social conservatives to ensure that post-pubescent people engaged in competitive sports should play in the category of their biological sex, not their self-declared “gender identity”? Or to ensure that puberty blockers should not ordinarily be prescribed to minors as a treatment for gender dysphoria outside of registered clinical trials?

To me the answer is obvious, at least for myself: you cannot cooperate with extreme social conservatives without giving at least some credibility to their other views—views with which you don’t agree (I would note my pro-choice stands and lifelong affiliation as a Democrat).  I will say what I think about puberty blockers (they shouldn’t be used till age 18 or so), and if conservatives want to quote me, fine. But I am not a member of any conservative organization that takes this stand, though I am friends with a group of like-minded liberals who have some gender-critical views.

Sokal winds up with the right conclusion, though: argue about policies and facts, not about associations.  Since I’m somewhat hermitic by nature, I don’t really cooperate with many organizations, and those I cooperate with, like Heterodox Academy or FIRE, have views I largely agree with.

The answer to these questions is far from obvious. But worrying about guilt by association — and worrying, above all, about the opprobrium emanating from those who, like Shahvisi and Judith Butler[2], wield it as a political weapon — mislocates the problem. Instead, what is needed is level-headed political analysis. The first and primary question is: What are the merits and demerits of the proposed policy? And if it appears that the merits outweigh the demerits, then the second question is: Do the short-term gains from tactical cooperation with “the opposition” outweigh the potential long-term liabilities? The pros and cons need to be assessed and argued carefully, not assumed a priori. People who conclude in good faith that the balance falls on the “pro” side (or, for that matter, on the “con” side) may of course be wrong — and it is perfectly fair to criticise their conclusion and their reasoning — but they should not be tarred as traitors, sell-outs or worse.

By contrast, the whole point of invoking guilt by association is precisely to circumvent this discussion — not only to circumvent the second step, but above all to circumvent the first: to denigrate the proposed policy, and render it anathema to all fair-minded people, without having to address its merits and demerits. That approach — need this really be said? — ought to be repugnant to anyone who advocates a thoughtful politics.

h/t: Jez