A Moral Panic

In 1939, Henry Fonda played the title role in Young Mr. Lincoln.  One crucial scene depicted him as saving a man unjustly accused of murder.  Were it not for our hero, a frenzied crowd would have lynched the victim on the spot.

This was a classic illustration of a moral panic.  In these cases, throngs of people go off half-cocked on the assumption that they are defending morality.  Because of an underlying insecurity, they crave an immediate resolution of a discomfiting challenge.

Sadly, we are in the midst of a series of such moral panics.  Most of these concern race or sex, but they have been triggered by an underlying ideological crisis.  Because liberalism failed, religious fervor stalled, and the free market demonstrated serious limitations, millions of Americans are unsure about the future.

As a consequence, the news cycle is punctuated by temporary upheavals.  Each of these seems to portend disaster, but our reaction to them is usually more perilous. Because we panic, we compound the impact of whatever seemed threatening.

The latest of these commotions concerns Roseanne Barr.  The comedienne tweeted out a bad joke regarding Valerie Jarrett.  This was deemed the height of racism.  ABC, in response, canceled her television show—and did so within three hours.

Political correctness was clearly in operation, but race has become such a sensitive subject that conservatives piled on.  They too were appalled that Planet of the Apesand an African-American woman could be mentioned in the same breath.  This was an egregious offence.

Not only was the condemnation reflexive, so was the demand for equal justice. Simultaneous with the sacking, caterwauling about the horrors of double standards arose.  Thus, how could Samantha Bee get away with using the C word against Ivanka Trump?  Didn’t this too cry out for dismissal?

Now think about it.  What Roseanne tweeted was coarse.  It was insensitive and borderline vicious.  But so was what Bee said.  Tactlessness, however, is par for the course for comedians.  They often go too far in an effort to shock us with incongruity.

So common is this phenomenon that in the wake of the Roseanne fiasco dozens of examples of excess were cited.  Does this mean that we must now ban all offensive humor?  Lenny Bruce must be rolling over in his grave. (Wait, wasn’t he a liberal?)

Worse than the brutal condemnation of Roseanne was the remedy.  She was instantly fired.  Really? Should every occurrence of bad taste elicit this response?  If so, we will soon be reduced to silence.  People will become so afraid of going too far that they will cease being candid about controversial subjects.

This has already happened with regard to race and sex.  Do you remember how Mark Fuhrman was pilloried as being crueler than Hitler for using the N-word?  Who now would consider tempting fate by following in his footsteps?

This, you may say, is a good thing.  But it has a price.  Over-the-top penalties meted out consequent to moral panics shut down free speech. People become so careful about their words that they retreat into separate fortresses.  Instead of honestly communicating, they glare distrustfully at strangers.

A little less sensitivity might therefore be in order.  Yes, we can get angry about insults.  Yes we can instruct one another about the propriety of jokes.  But do we need the equivalent of the death sentence for every violation?  Must we lynch someone whenever we suspect racism?

I have never liked Roseanne’s comedy.  But then neither have I enjoyed Bill Maher’ wit.  Shouldn’t we allow people their own brand of humor? Can’t we permit them to vote with their feet about whom to patronize.  Must we resort to social hatchet men to make these decisions?

Morality is crucial.  No society can exist without it.  But when it tips over into panic, it flirts with immorality.  You might thus want to check out my new paperback on Amazon. It’s called A Principled Society: Cultivating Trust in a World of Strangers.

The message is that our altered social circumstances require a revision of core moral standards.  If we, as a society, are to hold together without panicking every time we are offended, we need to be dedicated to common standards.  These, not emotional squalls, ought to guide our conduct.

Melvyn L. Fein, Ph.D.

Professor of Sociology

Kennesaw State University