The political power of sexual preference
Draft only: please do not cite without written permission. Comments and criticisms are welcome.
How should one choose one’s sexual partners? I contend that one's choice of sexual partner may be more a political power than a personal privilege. For other people's actions, when those actions are informed by their benign sexual attraction to us, constitute a social basis of our self-respect. This fact grounds, in the first instance, a duty to introspect and, in the second, a duty to divest oneself of any sexual aversion to members of a stigmatised, subordinate social group one might find oneself to have. These duties fall disproportionately on members of a privileged, dominant social group.
Neither the nature nor the origin of sexual preferences renders them inscrutable to introspection. For, regardless of what their nature is, it is their capacity to influence action that makes sexual preferences morally salient. Moreover, with regards to their origin, to claim that sexual preferences are unchosen would be to undermine the ability of those preferences to ground the self-respect of the person who is sexually preferred.
For its part, the duty to divest oneself of a sexual aversion to members of a stigmatised, subordinate group, first, does not require the adoption of any corollary sexual attraction to them; second, is not impugned by the possibility that members of the dominant group might divest themselves of a sexual aversion only to replace it with a sexual indifference; and, third, does not require the impossible, since an individual has a right that the rest of his society, which socialised him to have such deleterious desires, now provide him with real means of divesting himself of a sexual aversion that threatens to maintain, aggravate, or rekindle stigmatisation in his society. Fortunately, there are many ways in which the rest of society can fulfil this duty to him.
- 128 Views
1
The
political
power
of
sexual
preference
Abstract:
One's
choice
of
sexual
partner
may
be
more
a
political
power
than
a
personal
privilege.
For
other
people's
actions,
when
those
actions
are
informed
by
their
benign
sexual
attraction
to
us,
constitute
a
social
basis
of
our
self‐ respect.
This
fact
grounds
a
responsibility,
falling
disproportionately
on
each
member
of
a
privileged,
dominant
social
group,
first,
to
introspect
and,
second,
to
divest
himself
of
any
sexual
aversion
to
members
of
a
stigmatized,
subordinate
social
group
he
might
find
himself
to
have.
Neither
the
nature
nor
the
origin
of
sexual
preferences
renders
them
inscrutable
to
introspection.
For
it
is
their
capacity
to
influence
action
that
makes
sexual
preferences
morally
salient;
and
to
claim
that
sexual
preferences
are
unchosen
would
be
to
undermine
the
ability
of
those
preferences
to
ground
the
self‐respect
of
the
person
who
is
sexually
preferred.
For
its
part,
the
duty
to
divest
oneself
of
a
sexual
aversion
to
members
of
a
stigmatized,
subordinate
group,
first,
does
not
require
the
adoption
of
any
corollary
sexual
attraction
to
them;
second,
is
not
impugned
by
the
possibility
that
members
of
the
dominant
group
might
divest
themselves
of
a
sexual
aversion,
only
to
replace
it
with
a
sexual
indifference;
and,
third,
does
not
require
the
impossible,
since
an
individual
has
a
right
against
the
rest
of
society
to
provide
him
with
real
means
of
divesting
himself
of
a
sexual
aversion
that
threatens
to
maintain,
aggravate,
or
rekindle
stigmatization
in
his
society.
How
should
one
choose
one’s
friends?
How
should
one
choose
one’s
lovers?
How
should
one
choose
one’s
life
partner?
To
many,
perhaps
to
most,
these
questions
will
seem
out
of
place.
There
is
no,
they
will
say,
right
or
wrong,
about
the
way
in
which
one
chooses
the
people
with
whom
one
will
spend
one’s
time,
and
even
less
so
the
people
with
whom
one
will
share
one’s
body
or
spend
one’s
life.
Such
questions
are
personal,
and
thus
beyond
the
reach
of
public
scrutiny.
I
argue,
however,
that
one’s
apparently
personal
choices
of
friends,
sexual
partners,
and
life‐partner
may
be
more
political
than
we
might
otherwise
like
to
think.
I
focus
on
the
choice
of
sexual
partner,
since
the
physical
intimacy
of
sexual
intercourse
is
what
many
of
us
think
of
as
the
quintessence
of
the
exclusively
personal
sphere.
If
my
argument
is
successful
here,
I
believe
it
will
also
be
successful
with
regard
to
one’s
choice
of
friends
and
of
life‐partners.
However,
if
my
argument
is
not
successful
with
regard
to
one’s
*
*
*
2
choice
of
sexual
partners,
I
do
not
believe
that
this
will
necessarily
impugn
the
success
of
a
similar
argument
limited
to
one’s
choice
of
friends
or
of
life‐partner.
I
focus
on
sexual
preferences
that
are
aversions1
of
a
member
of
a
group
dominant
in
society
to
members
of
a
group
subordinate
and
stigmatised
in
that
society.
Stigmatisation,
as
I
shall
understand
it,
is
the
unwarranted
public
representation
of
a
particular
type
of
person
as
being
an
object
worthy
of
the
attitude
of
aversion.
I
argue
for
three
theses.
First,
one’s
capacity
as
a
sexual
being
for
affirming
the
sexual
attractiveness
of
another
sexual
being
is
a
significant
political
power,
since
it
can,
if
you
are
a
member
of
the
dominant
group,
contribute
to
the
deconstruction
of
an
unjust
publicly
affirmed
narrative
that
members
of
the
subordinate
group
are
worthy
of
the
attitude
of
sexual
aversion.
Second,
a
member
of
the
dominant
group,
in
embarking
1
I
shall
ignore
sexual
preferences
that
are
attractions
to
a
certain
type
of
people
–
be
that
type
of
people
members
of
the
dominant
group
in
some
segregated
and
hierarchised
society,
or
members
of
the
stigmatised,
subordinate
group.
Instead,
I
shall
focus
on
sexual
preferences
that
are
aversions
of
members
of
the
dominant
group
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group.
For,
on
the
one
hand,
in
itself,
a
sexual
attraction
of
a
member
of
the
dominant
group
to
members
of
the
dominant
group
seems
particularly
innocuous,
and,
perhaps,
for
reasons
of
solidarity,
or
of
duty
to
perpetuate
a
culture,
required.
On
the
other
hand,
a
sexual
attraction
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group
makes
for
a
more
complicated
analysis,
because
the
act
of
sexual
intercourse
is
either
inherently
one
of
domination,
or
is
at
least
an
act
upon
which
an
overtone
of
domination
very
often
supervenes.
We
might
view
the
sexual
attraction
of
a
member
of
the
dominant
group
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group
in
one
of,
at
least,
three
ways.
We
might
view
it,
first,
as
the
desire
to
re‐enact
in
the
private
sphere
the
social
domination
of
the
public
sphere;
or,
second,
as
the
desire
to
use
social
domination
as
an
exciting
metaphor
for
sexual
domination;
or
else,
third,
as
the
desire
to
subvert
in
the
private
sphere
the
social
domination
of
wider
society.
The
last
of
these
three
looks
less
suspect
than
the
first.
For
example,
one
online
forum
on
“Interracial
sex”
carries
the
following
illustration
of
how
some
people
view
the
power
of
a
sexual
attraction
to
a
member
of
the
subordinate
group
for
the
end
of
subverting
historical
and
contemporary
trends
of
stigmatisation:
“I
myself,
being
a
Palestinian,
find
the
idea
of
having
sex
with
Israelis
very
exciting...
me
and
another
two
guys
literally
f***ed
history
once,
when
myself,
a
Palestinian,
ended
up
in
bed
with
an
Israeli
Jew
and
his
German
boyfriend!”
However,
the
second
is
a
murky
area
of
grey.
The
metaphorical
use
of
publicly
accepted
stereotypes
(e.g.
that
black
men
have
big
penises,
or
that
“Asian
babes”
are
compliant)
has
the
potential
to
be
stigmatising
and
so
detract
from
the
dignity
of
the
beloved,
revealing
the
dominant
group
lover
sexually
attracted
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group
to
be
not
so
unlike
to
the
dominant
group
lover
sexually
averse
to
them.
By
contrast
with
all
these,
somewhat
intractable,
attractions,
the
sexual
aversions
(of
dominant
group
or
subordinate
group
lovers)
from
members
of
the
subordinate
group
are
more
clearly
liable
to
maintain
or
aggravate
existing
trends
of
stigmatisation
in
society.
3
upon
a
choice
of
sexual
partner,
has
a
moral
duty
to
look
inside
himself,
identify,
and
evaluate
any
sexual
aversions
he
may
have
to
members
of
some
subordinate
group,
given
a
political
backdrop
of
historical
and
contemporary
stigmatisation
of
members
of
subordinate
groups
–
a
backdrop
against
which
those
very
attitudes
of
aversion
will
have
arisen.
Third,
it
is
the
moral
duty
of
a
politically
engaged
citizen
to
divest
himself
of
any
sexual
aversion
he
has
that
is
liable
to
maintain,
aggravate
or
re‐kindle
stigmatization
in
his
society.
1. The
(political)
power
of
love
Self‐respect
–
a
person’s
belief
in
her
own
value
–
is
“perhaps
the
most
important
primary
good”.
For
“without
[self‐respect]
nothing
may
seem
worth
doing,
or
if
some
things
have
value
for
us,
we
lack
the
will
to
strive
for
them”
(Rawls
1999:
386).
One’s
belief
in
one’s
own
value
is
a
function
of
one’s
appraisal
that
one’s
plan
of
life
is
worth
carrying
out,
and
of
one’s
belief
that
one
has
the
capacities
to
realize
this
plan
of
life.
One’s
positive
self‐appraisal
depends
upon
the
recognition
of
other
people
that
one’s
plan
of
life
is
worth
carrying
out,
and
that,
in
their
eyes,
one
has
the
capacities
to
realize
it.
In
this
way,
there
are
social bases
to
our
possession
of
self‐respect.
When
other
people
act
upon
a
benign2
sexual
attraction
they
have
to
us,
that
action
of
2
Not
every
action
motivated
by
sexual
attraction
contributes
to
the
sense
of
self‐respect
of
the
person
who
is
the
object
of
that
sexual
attraction.
MacKinnon
(1979)
persuasively
argues
that
men’s
sexual
attraction
to
women
in
the
work‐place
very
often
detracts
from
a
woman’s
sense
of
self‐respect.
In
employing
the
adjective
“benign”,
I
aim
to
exclude
such
cases
as
these
from
the
theory
I
present.
4
theirs
contributes
to
our
sense
of
self‐respect.
Other
people’s
actions
informed
by
their
benign
sexual
attraction
to
us
constitute
one
of
the
social
bases
of
self‐respect.
Indeed,
it
is
nonsensical
to
think
that
we
could
ever
affirm
our
own
sexual
attractiveness
in
a
vacuum,
in
the
absence
of
other
people’s
affirmation
of
our
sexual
attractiveness.
In
this
way,
the
sense
of
self‐respect
we
derive
from
affirmation
of
our
sexual
attractiveness
seems
to
have
a
wholly
social
basis.
Such
action
contributes
to
our
sense
of
self‐respect
since
the
preference
that
motivates
it
is
grounded
in
an
admirable
property
we
are
deemed
to
possess.
To
know
that
another
person
loves
one
because
one
has
a
particular
property
can
be,
if
that
property
is
one
that
one
does
in
fact
have,
and
one
that
is
objectively
valuable,
or
else
valued
subjectively
by
both
oneself
and
that
other
person,
a
source
of
self‐respect.
(cf.
Soble
1990:
145‐6.).3
The
approbation
one
obtains
when
one
receives
affirmation
of
one’s
sexual
attractiveness
from
someone
whose
opinion
we
value
(from
someone,
that
is,
whom
we
ourselves
find
sexually
attractive,
or,
probably
more
likely,
from
someone
whom
our
society
recognizes
publicly
as
being
sexually
attractive)
is
an
uniquely
crucial
basis
of
our
sense
of
self‐respect.
It
is
uniquely
crucial,
since
the
goal
of
becoming
physically
intimate
with
a
person
who
wants
to
be
physically
intimate
with
you
(or
who
at
least
believes
you
are
someone
with
whom
it
is
worth
having
physically
intimate
relations)
is
a
fundamental
human
functioning.4
3
Even
without
the
sexual
overtones,
such
action
contributes
to
our
sense
of
self‐respect,
cf.
the
sense
of
worth
we
receive
from
innocent
compliments:
for
instance,
that
felt
by
the
awkward,
spotty
teenager
when
we
compliment
her
on
her
smile.
4
Sexual
affirmation
is
one
of
many
ways
in
which
we
can
elicit
the
approval
of
someone,
whose
opinion
we
value,
of
a
property
of
ours
that
we
ourselves
find
admirable.
We
could,
for
instance,
win
the
gold
medal
from
the
Olympic
committee
upon
the
occasion
of
our
coming
first
in
the
100m
sprint.
However,
unlike
our
receipt
of
sexual
affirmation,
our
doing
so
would
not
satisfy
a
universal
and
fundamental
human
functioning.
5
Contrariwise,
when
other
people
act
upon
a
sexual
aversion
they
have
to
us,
that
action
of
theirs
detracts
from
our
sense
of
self‐respect.
Who
does
not
know
the
feeling
of
unworthiness
consequent
upon
an
unrequited
love?
However,
that
sentiment
alone
does
not
call
for
justice.
It
is
merely
one
of
the
unfortunate
aspects
of
the
co‐ordination
problem
that
is
love.
Insofar
as
this
unfortunate
consequence
is
occasional
rather
than
systematic,
we
have
no
reason
to
regard
it
as
an
injustice.
However,
if
a
society
publicly
recognizes
certain
properties
as
being
those
that
are
admirable
enough
to
elicit
love
from
a
lover,
while
publicly
neglecting,5
or
even
publicly
denigrating,
other
properties
in
this
respect,
claiming
or
suggesting
that
those
properties
are
not
sufficiently
admirable
to
elicit
love
from
a
lover,
then
those
people
that
do
not
have
the
former
properties,
or
those
that
have
only
the
latter
properties,
are
unjustly
undermined
in
their
sense
of
self‐ respect.
But
a
publicly
affirmed
narrative
of
sexual
aversion
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group,
or,
at
least,
of
sexual
attraction
only
to
properties
that
members
of
the
dominant
group
have,
and
that
members
of
the
subordinate
group
lack,
can
only
stigmatise
members
of
the
subordinate
group
so
long
as
individual
members
of
the
dominant
group
act
in
a
manner
that
affirms
that
narrative.
Here
we
see
the
political
power
of
5
An
indubitable
example
of
such
a
publicly
affirmed
narrative
is
that
told
by
the
conspicuous
absence
of
black
female
models
from
the
catwalks
of
the
world
of
fashion.
It
is
as
yet
unclear
whether
Vogue Italia’s
all‐black
edition
of
the
magazine
in
July
2008
will
prove
a
short‐lived
token
gesture
or
an
irresistible
challenge
to
this
narrative,
cf.
http://www.independent.co.uk/life‐style/fashion/news/black‐is‐finally‐in‐fashion‐at‐vogue‐816213.html.
6
sexual
preferences.
One’s
capacity
as
a
sexual
being
for
affirming
the
sexual
value
or
attractiveness
of
another
sexual
being
is
not
merely
–
or
even,
perhaps,
principally
–
a
personal
privilege;
it
is
a
significant
political
power,
since
it
can,
if
you
are
a
member
of
the
dominant
group,
contribute
to
the
deconstruction
of
a
publicly
affirmed
narrative
that
members
of
the
subordinate
group
are
worthy
of
the
attitude
of
sexual
aversion.
Why
does
the
burden
of
deconstructing
unjust
publicly
affirmed
narratives
fall
disproportionately
upon
members
of
the
dominant
group?
The
reason
is
that
one
can
have
responsibilities
simply
because
one
happens
to
be
the
person
that
can
best
meet
those
responsibilities,
simply
because
one
is
in
the
right
place
at
the
right
time,
as
it
were.
We
show
that
this
is
our
intuition
in
our
introducing
and
maintaining
a
system
of
progressive
taxation:
in
doing
this
we
demonstrate
that
we
think
the
rich
have
a
special
responsibility
to
assuage
the
problems
of
the
poor,
even if
it
can
be
established
that
the
rich
are
in
no
way
the
cause
of
the
poverty
of
the
poor.
Similarly,
given
that
this
political
power
to
contribute
to
the
deconstruction
of
an
unjust,
publicly
affirmed
narrative
accrues
to
a
person
only
if
that
person
is
a
member
of
the
dominant
group,
it
is
members
of
the
dominant
group
who
are
–
fortuitously
–
in
the
best
position
to
assuage
the
unjust
situation
of
historical
or
contemporary
stigmatisation.
For
this
reason,
any
responsibilities
that
come
with
such
a
significant
political
power
fall
disproportionately
on
each
member
of
that
privileged,
dominant
group.
We
can
see
vividly
how
members
of
the
dominant
group
are
uniquely
well‐placed
to
assuage
the
stigmatisation,
if
we
consider
the
differential
effects
upon
the
sense
of
self‐respect
of
a
beloved
from
the
7
subordinate
group
when
confronted
with
a)
the
action,
of
a
lover
from
the
dominant
group,
informed
by
his
sexual
attraction
to
her,
and
b)
the
action,
of
a
lover
from
the
subordinate
group,
informed
by
his
sexual
attraction
to
her.
Of
the
two,
the
former
action
has
a
much
greater
ability
to
fly
in
the
face
of
any
publicly
affirmed
social
narrative
to
the
effect
that
the
properties
of
members
of
the
subordinate
group
are
not
sufficiently
admirable
to
elicit
love
from
a
lover.6
2. The
duty
to
introspect
If
the
possessor
of
such
a
significant
political
power
is
to
wield
that
power
responsibly,
he7
ought
to
reason
thus:
“My
individual
personal
choices
and
actions
are
a
function,
on
the
one
hand,
of
my
beliefs
about
how
the
world
is
and,
on
the
other,
of
my
desires,
that
is
of
my
attractions
and
aversions
to
particular
objects
or
people.
If
I
have
an
aversion
to
a
type
of
people,
where
that
type
of
people
is,
or
has
been,
stigmatised
in
6
We
should
construe
“membership
of
the
dominant
group”
broadly.
For
instance,
members
of
a
stigmatised
group
who
are
otherwise
members
of
some
socially
dominant
group
have
special
responsibilities
towards
those
of
their
fellow
stigmatised
members
who
are
otherwise
stigmatised,
independently
of
their
membership
in
that
group.
An
example
of
this
is
the
case
of
the
stigmatisation
of
gay
men
of
colour.
For,
whereas
white
gay
men
share
with
gay
men
of
colour
a
social
stigma
owing
to
their
common
pursuit
of
sexual
relations
with
people
of
their
own
sex,
white
gay
men
are
nevertheless
members
of
the
dominant
social
group
of
white
people
and,
for
that
reason,
enjoy
a
publicly
affirmed
social
narrative
that
the
properties
of
white
–
but
not
black
–
people
are
sufficiently
admirable
to
elicit
love
from
a
lover.
These
two
facts
suggest
that
gay
men
of
colour
constitute
a
stigmatised
group,
subordinate
both
to
white
gay
men,
and
to
white
heterosexuals
and
lesbian
women.
Given
that
gay
men
of
colour
are
sexually
oriented
to
men,
those
most
able
to
assuage
the
stigmatisation
of
gay
men
of
colour
just
happen
to
be
white
gay
men.
Thus
the
responsibility
to
introspect
and,
if
necessary,
to
divest,
falls
disproportionately
upon
white
gay
men.
7
Who
is
“he”?
This
argument
is
addressed
both
to
the
egalitarian
and
to
the
anti‐egalitarian.
Unlike
other
philosophers,
I
am
uninterested
in
the
inconsistency
of
egalitarians
who
advocate
ethnic
equality
in
the
public
sphere,
while
permitting
ethnicised
sexual
preferences
in
the
in
the
private
sphere,
all
the
while
acknowledging
that
events
in
private
sphere
are
more
crucial
to
a
person’s
sense
of
self‐respect
than
events
in
the
public
sphere
(Thomas
1999:
195‐6).
I
agree
that
such
an
inconsistency
is
suspect
(indeed,
it
is
difficult,
to
see
how
it
is
possible
to
prevent
preferences
of
the
private
sphere
from
influencing
–
albeit
unconsciously
–
decisions
made
in
the
public
sphere,
cf.
Thomas
1999:
197).
However,
mine
is
no
ad hominem
criticism
of
inconsistency:
I
am
interested
in
moral
failings
in
the
private
sphere
of
which
even
anti‐egalitarians
could
fall
foul.
8
my
society,
my
personal
choices
are
liable
to
be
a
function
of
that
sexual
aversion.
If
my
personal
choices
are
liable
to
be
a
function
of
such
a
sexual
aversion,
I
am
liable,
in
my
actions,
to
maintain,
aggravate,
or
rekindle
stigmatisation
in
my
society.
It
would
be
wrong
to
maintain,
aggravate,
or
rekindle
stigmatisation
in
my
society.
However,
I
will
not
know
whether
or
not
I
have
such
a
sexual
aversion
unless
I
have
introspected,
i.e.
submitted
my
own
sexual
aversions
to
scrutiny.
Therefore,
I
should
introspect.”
One
might
object
that
either
the
nature or
the
origin of
sexual
preferences
renders
them
inscrutable
via
introspection,
such
that
they
do
not
admit
of
justification.
First,
in
its
nature,
claims
Hume,
“a
passion
is
an
original
existence”
and,
unlike
a
cognition,
“contains
not
any
representative
quality”
(THN
2.3.3.5).
This
leads
Hume
to
conclude
that,
“where
a
passion
is
neither
founded
on
false
suppositions,
nor
chuses
means
insufficient
for
the
end,
the
understanding
can
neither
justify
not
condemn
it”
(THN,
2.3.3.6).
It
may
be
further
claimed
that
cases,
such
as
those
involving
sexual
attraction
to
children,
where
sexual
preferences
seem
to
admit
of
condemnation
are
more
reasonably
understood
as
cases
where
it
is
not
the
preference
that
admits
of
condemnation,
but
rather
its
exercise.
The
exercise
of
the
preference
harms
children,
whereas
one’s
merely
having
that
preference
does
not
(Matravers
2008).
However,
this
theory
of
the
nature
of
passion
cannot
impugn
the
duty
to
introspect,
for
that
duty
enjoins
the
scrutiny
of
aversions
insofar as they are liable to inform action.
If
one
can
be
sure
that
a
sexual
aversion
one
has
will
not
inform
one’s
action,
then
one
need
not
introspect.
Of
course,
it
is
highly
unlikely
that
one
could
ever
be
sure
of
that.
9
Second,
one
might
claim
that,
since,
in
their
origin,
they
are
“brute”,
“sheer”,
or
“not
up
to
us”,
sexual
preferences
do
not
admit
of
justification
or
condemnation.
However,
first,
the
mere
fact
that
sexual
preferences
are
unchosen
does
not
mean
that
they
cannot
be
rejected
or
changed.
Second,
it
would
seem
that
the
sort
of
sexual
aversions
we
have
been
discussing
thus
far
are
not
brute,
as
in
naturally‐occurring,
but
are
rather
constructions
of
the
society
in
which
the
agent
has
developed.
For
instance,
ethnicised
preferences
about
the
people
with
whom
one
would
like
to
be
physically
intimate
are
social
constructions.
We
can
see
this
from
the
fact
that
infants
do
not
respond
to
love
only
from
persons
of
a
particular
ethnicity
(Thomas
1999:
190).
Third,
it
is
not
clear
that
we
really
do
value
love
that
is
elicited
in
virtue
of
brute,
inexplicable
preferences
alone.
For,
while
“my
aversions
are
not
up
to
me”
may
seem
an
acceptable
response
in
reply
to
the
non‐beloved’s
criticism
of
the
would‐be
lover’s
sexual
aversions
to
her,
“my
attractions
are
not
up
to
me”
does
not,
by
contrast,
seem
an
acceptable
response
in
reply
to
the
beloved’s
request
for
explanation
of
her
lover’s
sexual
attractions
to
her.
For,
as
we
noted
earlier,
the
benign
sexual
attraction
another
person
has
to
us
only
grounds
our
sense
of
self
respect
if
that
other
person
is
attracted
to
us
in
virtue
of
an
admirable
property
we
possess.
The
beloved
wants
to
know
that
she
is
loved
in
virtue
of
a
specific
property
of
hers
that
she
values
and
that
her
lover
also
values
–
not
that
she
is
loved
in
virtue
of
a
fluke
of
luck
in
just
happening
to
be
the
person
that
the
lover,
with
his
sheer
preferences,
loves
(cf.
Soble
1990:
145‐6).
So
to
claim
that
the
unchosen
origin
of
sexual
preferences
renders
them
above
justification
is
to
undermine
the
ability
of
10
love
to
ground
the
self‐respect
of
the
beloved.
3. The
duty
to
divest
Suppose
a
member
of
a
dominant
group,
after
a
period
of
introspection,
discovers
himself
to
have
a
sexual
aversion
to
members
of
some
stigmatised
subordinate
group.
What
ought
he
to
do?
In
order
to
answer
this
question,
take,
as
a
case
study,
a
white,
able‐bodied
man
in
the
context
of
the
unjust
social
hierarchies
of
male
dominance,
white
supremacy,
and
able‐bodied
privilege.
In
this
man’s
society,
fat
women,
black
people
and
disabled
people
are
or
have
been
unjustly
represented
as
being
objects
worthy
of
the
attitude
of
aversion.
Against
the
background
of
this
society
where
women
are
prized
for
being
slim,
he
has
a
sexual
aversion
to
women
of
a
fuller
figure.
Against
the
background
of
a
mass
media
dominated
by
favourable
representations
of
white
people,
he
has
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people.
Against
the
background
of
the
infrequent
accommodation
of
the
disabled
in
public
life,
he
has
a
sexual
aversion
to
the
physically
disabled.
Suppose
that
this
white,
able‐bodied
man
dutifully
introspects
and
finds
himself
to
have
these
three
sexual
aversions.
How
should
he
reason?
He
ought
to
reason
thus:
“I
know
that
my
choices
and
actions
are
a
function
of
the
aversions
that
I
have.
I
know
also
that,
if
I
have
sexual
aversions
to
fat
women,
black
people,
and
disabled
people,
my
actions
are
more
likely
than
not
going
to
be
a
function
of
those
aversions.
For,
in
a
society
with
a
history
of
stigmatisation
of
certain
social
11
groups,
or,
still
more
pressing,
in
which
certain
social
groups
are
currently
stigmatised,
it
is
reasonable
to
presume
that
any
sexual
aversion
to
members
of
a
subordinate
group
one
does
have
is
more
likely
than
not
going
to
maintain
or
aggravate
existing
trends
or
to
rekindle
historical
trends
of
stigmatisation.
Given
the
unconscious
manner
in
which
social
norms
of
ethnic
stigmatisation
persist
in
the
wake
of
the
repeal
of
ethnically
stigmatising
legislation,
this
presumption
seems
well
justified
indeed.
Thus,
if
I
retain
these
sexual
aversions,
my
actions
are
more
likely
than
not
going
to
maintain,
aggravate
or
rekindle
stigmatisation.
Since
it
is
a
grave
wrong
to
maintain,
aggravate,
or
rekindle
stigmatisation,
I
ought
to
divest
myself
of
these
sexual
aversions
to
fat
women,
black
people,
and
disabled
people.”
First,
one
might
object
that
the
only
way
to
create
a
scenario
where
members
of
the
dominant
group,
previously
sexually
averse
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group,
choose
members
of
the
subordinate
group
as
sexual
partners,
is
to
enjoin
those
dominant
group
members
to
cultivate
a
sexual
attraction
to
members
of
the
subordinate
group.
This
would
be
a
problem
because
sexual
attractions
consciously
adopted,
especially
through
a
sense
of
duty,
destroy
the
true
meaning
of
affection.
However,
I
have
not
hitherto
argued
for
any
conclusion
about
what
our
sexual
attractions
should
be.8
Moreover,
the
suggestion
that
the
deliberate
and
reflective
8
Unlike
Thomas,
who
claims
that
“no
ethnic
kind
should
be
privileged
[in
sexual
preference]
as
a
matter
of
principle”
(1999:198).
By
contrast,
I
believe
that
so
long
as
such
a
blanket
rule
does
not
maintain
or
aggravate
an
existing
trend
of
stigmatisation
in
society,
this
is
morally
innocuous.
My
position
is
preferable
since
it
permits,
for
instance,
a
black
person’s
exclusive
sexual
preference
for
other
black
people.
It
also
allows
for
a
blanket
rule
on
the
sex
of
the
person
that
one
will
consider
as
a
sexual
partner.
It
allows
for
gay
men
to
privilege
men
as
a
matter
of
principle
and
for
lesbian
women
to
privilege
women
as
a
matter
of
principle.
However,
it
also
requires
heterosexuals
to
think
twice
before
they
privilege
members
of
the
opposite
sex
–
which
is
probably
as
it
should
be,
if
members
of
the
dominant
12
adoption
of
sexual
preferences
is
illegitimate
mistakes
what
it
is
about
certain
sources
of
sexual
preference
that
seems
to
render
them
illegitimate.
Rather
than
contrast
deliberately
adopted
preferences
with
preferences
we
“find”
ourselves
to
have,
we
should
contrast
artificially
formed
preferences
with
preferences
formed
autonomously
and
not
imposed
by
an
external
influence.9
This
latter
distinction
helps
to
explain
why
the
nagging
beloved
we
saw
earlier
would
not
be
satisfied
by
the
reply
“because
society
constructed
me
to
love
you”.
It
also
explains
why
we
deem
illegitimate
those
sexual
preferences
that
have
been
induced
in
a
lover
as
a
result
of
his
drinking
a
love
potion
–
they
have
been
artificially
formed,
and
so
don’t
count.
Furthermore,
we
think
that
aversions
that
are
consciously
adopted,
such
as
a
sexual
aversion
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive,
are
acceptable.10
So
why
would
we
not
similarly
think
that
sexual
attractions
group
are
to
be
duly
vigilant
about
the
way
in
which
they
wield
the
political
power
that
they
have
in
virtue
of
their
membership
of
that
dominant
group.
9
Soble
identifies
three
criteria
that,
together,
justify
“x’s
special
concern
for
y”,
these
are
the
“requirements
for
avoiding
defective,
shallow
love”:
first,
“x
loves
y
in
virtue
of
properties….that
x
finds
valuable
as
a
result
of
x’s
autonomously
formed
preferences”;
second,
“x
loves
y
in
virtue
of
properties
that
are
not
superficial”;
and,
third,
“x’s
belief
that
y
has
[the
properties
in
question]
is…well
founded
on
the
evidence”
Soble
1990:
283.
10
A
sexual
aversion
of
someone
who
is
HIV
negative
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive
provides
an
interesting
contrast
to
a
sexual
aversion
of
someone
who
is
white
to
people
who
are
black.
For
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people
does
not,
presumably,
begin
with
an
aversion
to
having
sex
with
a
black
person;
rather
does
it
begin
with
a
general
aversion
to
being
in
the
company
of
a
black
person,
or
otherwise
interacting
with
a
black
person,
and
only
derivatively
does
it
present
as
the
more
particular
aversion
to
having
sex
with
a
black
person.
By
contrast,
an
aversion
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive,
presumably
begins
with
the
particular
sexual
aversion
to
being
in
physically
intimate
(principally
sexual)
contact
with
a
person
who
is
HIV
positive
–
i.e.
to
being
in
contact
sufficiently
intimate
to
enable
viral
transmission
–
and,
only
derivatively,
does
it
become
the
more
general
aversion
to
hiring
or
letting
one’s
property
to
a
person
who
is
HIV
positive.
It
might,
for
this
reason
seem
that
a
sexual
aversion
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive
is
more
justifiable,
for
a
member
of
the
relevant
dominant
group,
than
is
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people.
However,
we
ought
to
distinguish
a
sexual
aversion
owing
to
the
fear
of
viral
transmission
from
a
sexual
aversion
borne
of
the
more
general
societal
aversion
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive.
If
the
sexual
aversion
is
of
the
latter
type,
then
it
seems
to
be
similar
to,
rather
than
to
contrast
with,
the
case
of
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people,
and,
for
that
reason,
to
be
an
injustice.
If,
alternatively,
the
sexual
aversion
is
of
the
former
type,
then
it
could
well
be
justified.
One
might
see
a
justifiable
reason
of
health
for
retaining,
as
someone
that
is
HIV
negative,
a
sexual
aversion
one
has
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive:
one
does
not
want
to
contract
a
potentially
life‐threatening
and,
as
yet,
incurable
viral
infection.
However,
it
not
obvious
that
this
reason
of
health
is
insurmountable.
For
there
are
intimate
physical
acts
someone
that
is
HIV
negative
can
perform
with
someone
that
is
HIV
positive
that
carry
no
risk
of
viral
transmission
(e.g.
non‐penetrative
sex
that
does
not
involve
the
exchange
of
bodily
fluids),
and
there
are
still
other
13
consciously
adopted
are
acceptable?
Second,
one
might
object
that,
if
a
white
person
divests
himself
of
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people,
yet
continues
to
indulge
his
(otherwise
innocuous)
sexual
attraction
to
white
people,
he
may
continue
to
reject
black
people
as
potential
sexual
partners.
It
may
seem
then
that
nothing
has
changed,
and
such
a
scenario
could
still
detract
significantly
from
the
sense
of
self‐respect
held
by
black
people.
Thus
the
mere
duty
to
divest
is
not
sufficient
to
deconstruct
the
publicly
affirmed
narrative
that
black
people
are
worthy
of
the
attitude
of
sexual
aversion.
However,
insofar
as
his
new
rejection
is
grounded
in
indifference
as
opposed
to
aversion,
there
is
much
less
reason
for
the
black
people
he
rejects
to
feel
diminished
in
their
sense
of
self‐respect.
Yet,
of
course,
there
is
no
way
for
a
rejected
black
person
to
know
for
sure
that
her
rejection
was
grounded
in
sexual
indifference
to
people
of
her
ethnicity
as
opposed
to
sexual
aversion
to
them.
Indeed,
were
every
white
person
with
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people
to
divest
him
or
herself
of
that
aversion,
replacing
it
with
a
sexual
indifference
to
black
people,
this
would
still
not
be
enough
to
eliminate
stigmatisation,
if,
because
they
each,
by
chance,
continued
to
indulge
a
sexual
preference
for
white
people,
a
de facto
stigmatisation
of
black
people
in
society
persisted.
In
such
a
scenario,
the
onus
would
be
on
white
people
as
a
collective
to
prove
that
they
do
not
continue
to
stigmatise
black
people,
even
though
no
white
person
ever
chooses
to
have
sex
with
a
black
person.
acts
that
carry
a
low,
much
reduced,
risk
(e.g.
penetrative
sex
that
uses
condoms;
or,
where
no
condom
is
used,
that
does
not
involve
the
exchange
of
bodily
fluids;
or,
if
it
does,
that
takes
place
with
a
partner
whose
HIV
viral
load
has
been
reduced
to
an
undetectable
level
by
anti‐retroviral
treatment).
Once
the
threat
of
viral
transmission
is
removed,
it
is
difficult
to
see
what
reason,
beyond
the
desire
to
stigmatise,
a
person
who
is
HIV
negative
might
have
for
retaining
a
sexual
aversion
to
people
who
are
HIV
positive.
14
Third,
one
might
object
that
either
of
the
following
two
duties
requires
the
impossible:
a)
the
duty
just
mentioned
of
a
white
person,
who
has
already
divested
himself
of
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people,
to
persuade
rejected
black
people
that
he
rejects
them
only
from
an
attitude
of
indifference,
or
b)
the
duty
of
a
white
person
to
divest
himself
of
a
sexual
aversion
to
black
people.
For,
with
regards
to
the
former,
it
would
seem
unfair
to
accuse
a
single
white
person
of
not
really
having
divested
himself
of
such
an
aversion,
simply
because
we
remarked
that
a
de facto
stigmatisation
of
black
people
persisted.
With
regards
to
the
latter,
changing
our
desires
may
be
beyond
our
ability.
If
"ought"
implies
"can",
then
neither
of
these
can
be
a
duty,
it
is
claimed,
owing
to
the
significant
limits
on
what
an
individual
–
albeit
well‐intentioned
–
member
of
the
dominant
group
can
achieve,
especially
after
having
been
socialized
to
hold
the
associated
beliefs
and
feel
the
associated
emotions
that
the
phenomenon
of
stigmatisation
requires
of
him.
On
his
own,
he
will
not
be
able
to
overcome
this
socialization
and
fulfil
the
duties
in
question.
However,
since
stigmatisation
is
a
matter
of
shared
norms
and
ideas,
we
do
not
expect
him
to
perform
the
divestiture
as
a
solo
surgeon
or
to
inspire
confidence
among
black
people
as
an
independent
public
relations
executive.
No,
he
has
a
claim
against
the
society
that
socialized
him
(such
that
he
play
his
role
in
the
phenomenon
of
stigmatisation)
that
the
rest
of
society
work
with
him
as
assistants
in
this
surgery
and
publicity
(cf.
Soble
1990:
282‐83).
What
one
person
cannot
do
on
his
own,
many
people
might
be
able
to
do
collectively;
and
this
well‐intentioned
member
of
the
dominant
group
has
a
right
that
his
fellow
socialized
citizens
aid
and
15
abet
him
in
this
collective
action.
He
might
enjoin
his
fellows
to
make
such
an
effort
in
the
private
sphere,
in
civil
society,
and
in
the
political
sphere.
For
example,
he
might
enjoin
them
to
create
a
family
environment
where
they
raise
their
children
to
subject
to
special
scrutiny
any
aversion
they
might
come
across
or
find
in
themselves
towards
members
of
historically
or
currently
stigmatised
types
of
people.
We
may
enjoin
them
to
dare
to
frown
on
a
racist
joke
that
may
be
told
in
a
familial
setting.
The
stakes
are
lower
than
those
in
a
non‐ familial
setting,
for
the
bonds
of
familial
love
can
usually
be
expected
to
overcome
the
friction
that
such
a
frowning‐upon
might
generate.
In
civil
society,
he
might
enjoin
his
fellows
to
represent
in
art,
especially
in
the
more
popular
forms,
such
as
cinema
and
television,
and
in
mass
media,
especially
in
the
more
penetrating
forms,
such
as
news
journalism
and
capitalist
advertising,
members
of
historically
or
currently
stigmatised
types
of
people
in
a
novel,
favourable
light.
Finally,
in
the
political
sphere,
he
might
enjoin
his
fellows
to
execute
policies
of
socio‐economic
redistribution,
to
give
a
concrete
backbone
to
the
new,
favourable
representations
of
formerly
stigmatised
people
that
will,
by
now,
be
circulating
in
society.
The
burden
of
the
political
power
of
sexual
preference
on
the
individual
member
of
a
dominant
social
group
is
great
indeed.
However,
in
his
fellow
socialized
citizens,
he
has
a
resource
that
will
enable
him
to
wield
that
power
wisely.
And
he
has
a
right
to
expect
his
fellows
to
help
him.
16
References
HUME,
David.
A
treatise
on
human
nature
MACKINNON,
Catherine.
Sexual Harassment of Working Women: A Case of Sex Discrimination (Yale
University
Press,
1979)
th MATRAVERS,
Derek.
“Ethics
and
sexual
desire,”
presentation
to
Sexual
ethics
workshop,
University
of
Bristol,
9
May
2008.
RAWLS,
John.
A theory of justice
(Harvard
University
Press,
1999)
SOBLE,
Alan.
The structure of love (Yale
University
Press,
1990)
THOMAS,
Laurence.
“Split‐level
equality:
Mixing
love
and
equality,”
in
S.
Babbit
and
S.
Campbell
eds.
Racism and philosophy
(Cornell
University
Press,
1999)
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