The Illusion of Moral Cohesion

I sometimes think many of us feel an imperative to represent ourselves as having moral cohesion.

I don’t know about you, but my moral life is messy at the best of times. Let’s get specific by choosing a way in which I strive to be moral, but frequently disappoint myself: in living an anti-racist life. 

There are things I do which I can say are oriented towards relating to different cultures and/or ethnicities, staying open to people of colour as they feel emboldened to be authoritative in ways which white Australians might censor or negate… when I locate that tendency to censor and negate within myself, I try to a) calm down, and b) ask questions which can get me to a more accepting place. The goal is to create space for people of colour to be themselves - messy, imperfect, variable - and still worthy. 

Now, I have personally benefitted from the knowledge of many feminists of colour, such as Bell Hooks, Audré Lorde and Sara Ahmed… But…

In my messiness, I have not always been able to be as generous to someone like Sara Ahmed as I can now see as ideal. For example, I articulated to myself the value of analysing the emotional states that feminism often results in (Sara writes of feeling like an ‘affect alien’ in ‘Living a Feminist Life’, describing, for example, feeling out of sync with the rest of society as they might laugh at a joke in which the punch line depends of gender stereotypes). But for ages I put undue focus on what I regarded as the least rewarding part of the book, its word-play. 

Browsing through Amazon.com reviews of ‘Living a Feminist Life’, I noted that just about everybody else was too enthralled with the revolutionary insights of the narrative to bother complaining at all. But, reader, I insisted that what I now experience as a minor flaw, ought to be duly called out. This eventually ended with me being passive-aggressive to a feminist I met on the internet who had noted that Sara Ahmed was one of her favourite authors. I regret this.

Rather than a tidy, open-and-closed case of me having been morally dubious (being overly critical of a Black woman, then being micro-aggressive to a woman of colour about it), and having atoned for it by recognising my rightful position as an admirer and amplifier of Ahmed’s work, and going forth into the world with more ardent anti-racism… I don’t mind sharing that I have made similar mistakes since, and will probably continue to make them in the future. 

I strive to be fair and just to everybody, but is it even realistic to expect constant adherence to this perfectionistic standard? As a white person in a white supremacy, I am a product of my environment, and I unconsciously act out what I have been taught… until I catch myself in the act, back off, get calm… and curious. Reflect, and change… Then reinforce the strengths in my anti-racism and expand upon them. 

But one thing I cannot offer is moral certitude, moral cohesion, or moral consistency. If my morality is a painting, it is constantly rearranging itself. Sometimes I am pleased with myself. Sometimes I am not. I notice I am more pleased if I opt out of representing myself as morally cohesive. Removing the pressure to be perfect creates space for more self-compassion, and giving myself permission to fail ironically gives me more freedom to take more risks. Self-compassion and a growth mindset helps me grow: as an anti-racist and as a person with moral agency.

Morally messy - that is how I am. It’s a relief to be open about it, and it would make me happy if I could encourage someone to feel more comfortable with their messy, ambiguous self. I am still worthy - and so are you.

Some Further Thoughts on Travel

Don't wait for the 'perfect' time to visit a country

In 2019 I enjoyed reading Shani Silver's 'Every Single Day' column in Refinery29.com (US). Shani's witty, conversational style defended single (hetero) women against social expectations of coupling up. She disavowed peer judgement for not having married, and other intrusive negations of her and others' single state. Defiantly feminist, she described the pleasures of sleeping starfish-style on a double bed, being soothed by your lovely pet, and the freedom to pursue a Parisian vacation on a whim. 

So I was a little surprised when Shani wrote that she was interested in experiencing Italy for the first time, but was saving it for the day when she could travel with a romantic partner.

I think to confine Italy to a solely romantic function is to bypass all the incredible experiences you can have in this country. What about viewing its exalted art, either by staying for a while in one of its larger metropolitan areas, or pursuing a path through several different cities, perhaps with a theme? Indulging your tastebuds multiple times a day with uniquely delicious dishes? Browsing the latest, impeccable fashion, or admiring the design of everything from moccasins to Murano glass? Finding an inspiration of your very own in one of many extravagantly ornamented churches? Discovering the motivations behind that colourful character you just fell into a conversation with, and trying to figure out to what extent they are an outlier of society or to what extent they fit right in? Joining in the passeggiata (the leisurely evening stroll with possibilities for socialising) and enjoying the cadences of the language, the theatricity of the hand movements and the fun of socially acceptable flirting? Admiring the hues of sunlight as they disperse further warmth onto the residential buildings coated in yellows, oranges and pinks?

When it comes to a large nation that's well-established in the tourist industry, finding pleasure there that has nothing to do with romance (in the strictest sense) is easy. If you really want to visit Italy, trust the many solo women travellers that have already made it there, and had an optimal experience. Who knows, maybe when you meet a romantic partner down the road, you can show them your favourite places, basking in the knowledge that they are benefitting from your experience. (Visiting the same place twice can also be a wonderful source of pleasure.) But even if it's just for you and you alone, you deserve to live in the moment and make the most of how things are right now. 

Reflecting on Travel Privilege

While I can't say I am the most privileged person in the world, I can say that I have privilege in the following ways: 

- I am white

- My family is financially stable, and middle-class

- I have time to travel

- I speak English fluently

- I have a passport from a nation in the Global North

- I have dual citizenship with an EU country

- I am cisgender

- I am able-bodied

My unique set of circumstances allows me to travel overseas every year, something which is inaccessible to the majority of the world’s population. I haven’t always been aware of just how lucky this makes me!

Ten years ago, I would occasionally try to implement a screen on friendships, where they would have to have travelled to at least two continents other than the one they were usually on. I became more open-minded with time, and currently pleased say that this defence mechanism no longer applies.

These days, I am open to friendships with people for whom travel is not a priority (or who simply can’t afford the luxury). I have learnt from the kindness and intelligence of many a colourful, well-rounded soul… and now know that you can be open to experience without ever having left your home continent. That you can appreciate other ethnicities without having witnessed their country of origin first-hand. That you can be wildly imaginative without moving between different locales. What makes someone appealing is their inner world. (And there are many well-travelled people who are emotionally unavailable.)

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There is a different aspect to travel privilege which has caught my attention recently, which will be more relevant for those who find themselves in the travel community. The following short video introduces it:

I’d like to add that all travel joy is valid travel joy. In my twenties I ran around as many major cities as possible, visiting 2-3 attractions a day, being alive to every moment... it was fantastic. Nowadays I love getting to know locals and immersing myself in different cultures... it is also fantastic. Travel in a way that is aligned with your values, and you'll find yourself in the company of like-minded people. Together, we can build solidarity.