While
‘total inclusion in the community’ may sound good as a fundamental moral
principle, running it through the logic machine yields some problematic
results.
APRIL 28, 2017
One of the
greatest moral buzzwords of our age is “inclusivity.” It has become a favorite
on the lips of politicians, executives, celebrities, academics, and pastors alike. Like “fairness,” “peace,”
“dignity,” or “diversity,” it has quickly achieved the coveted status of moral
obviousness: What kind of person could be against inclusion?
But like most obvious concepts, what inclusivity enjoys in
widespread acceptance it lacks in conceptual clarity. What does it mean,
specifically, to be inclusive, and how should it fit within any hierarchy of
values?
What’s in a Word?
Boring, but Important
Let’s start
by noting some of the basic features of the concept. First, “inclusion”
necessarily implies a “here” and a “there.” To include someone presumes a space
exists that is already inhabited by a group that seeks to invite outsiders in. If this
were not the case, inclusion would be moot.
This, of course, brings up the question of what defines “space,”
the arena in which inclusion takes place. Since inclusion is usually used in
reference to groups, “community” could be substituted in this context, which would
mean that to include means to open one’s community to those who are outside of
it.
Whatever
else “community” might mean, it at least implies the existence of a collection
of individuals who share some constitutive set of
features that define the group as one thing rather than another: churches,
political parties, fantasy football leagues, universities, etc., are all kinds
of communities because they have characteristics that
define them as one thing and not as another (more on this below).
The definition
of inclusion could thus take this form: “I practice the value of inclusion by
inviting you, who are outside of my community, into my
distinctive community, which is different than any other community of which you are
currently a part.”
Let’s take
one more step. If inclusion is not only a value
but my highest value, and, moreover, a value that I
universalize, then I am furthermore committed to saying: “All people, in
everything that they do, must seek to include everyone into their distinctive
community with the ultimate goal of total inclusion.” This may sound innocuous
enough, perhaps even morally praiseworthy. But does it pass logical muster?
Enter Aristotle
Although not the first philosopher to identify them, Aristotle
neatly lays out the three foundational laws of logic in his “Metaphysics.” They
include the following.
The Law of Identity: a thing is what it is. So, for example, when
we point to any given thing in existence, we say that it has some constitutive
feature or set of features that make it one thing and not another (like a
“human being” or a “baseball bat” or an “Android phone,” etc.).
The Law of Non-Contradiction: a thing cannot both be itself and
its opposite at the same time. So, for example, it would be illogical to claim
that humans have some free will and no free will at the same time in the same
way.
The Law of the Excluded Middle: something must either be or not be
with regards to its essential characteristic or characteristics. So, to draw on
the above example, there is no third option on the question of whether humans
have free will or not. You cannot split the difference or take an average. It
either is or it is not.
Now, Let’s Respect the
Law
While “total inclusion in the community” may sound good as a
fundamental moral principle, running it through the logic machine above yields
some problematic results.
First, we have to recognize that defining a community requires
specifying a characteristic or set of characteristics that constitute it as a
particular community and not something else (the Law of Identity). For example,
what makes a community of anti-war activists a community is its shared
commitment to pacifism, notwithstanding any other differences among individual
members. Absent this shared commitment, the community would cease to exist.
Second, we
have to recognize that any given community cannot both be itself and its
opposite at the same time (the Law of Non-Contradiction). For example, if the
community of pacifists were to begin advocating for missile strikes in country
X, they may still be able to call themselves a community, but not a pacifist community.
To be a community, in other words, not only means being one thing rather than
another, it also means not being able to be contradictory things at the
same time, such as pacifist hawks.
Third, and similarly, we have to recognize that some features of
the identity of any given community either are or are not (the Law of the
Excluded Middle). Drawing on the previous example, a community cannot be “kinda
pacifist” if we define pacifism as a commitment to total-nonviolence. Either it
recognizes the licit use of force or it doesn’t.
In short,
the three laws lead us to recognize that the whole concept of community
(barring defining community as “everything in existence”) depends upon exclusion. Being a
community at all requires having a unique identity
that excludes other potential identities, particularly when
those other identities would be contradictory or imply a degree when the
reality is either/or (like a pacifist in relation to war).
This is
precisely the problem with “inclusiveness” if it is
defined as a community’s highest value. No matter what specific community you
have in mind, a totally inclusive community—that is, a community that defines
itself by the standard of inclusion—is incoherent and self-defeating.
An Example: The
‘Inclusive’ Church
To illustrate the point, let’s imagine (or think of) a Catholic
church that seeks to define itself primarily according to the value of
inclusivity. To achieve this goal, it not only hangs a bright “All Are Welcome
Here!” banner over its entrance and invites everyone to Mass, it also invites
everyone to write its liturgies, define its moral doctrines, and even to take
turns being the priest, all with the goal of making everyone be and feel
included in the community. Would we still be talking about a Catholic church,
or even a “community” in any coherent sense?
To be an inclusive community one must be
a community in the first place.
No, and one
need not suffer the charge of being “non-inclusive” to say why. As the three
laws illustrate, there are always some non-negotiables to the
identity of any community at a definitional level, and
insofar as these non-negotiables exist, the community cannot coherently
welcome everyone if by “welcome” we mean “allow every individual
to equally participate in” or, even, “feel comfortable in.”
In the church example, we can instructively ask whether a church
that seeks to define itself as everything to everyone (a violation of the Law
of Identity) is coherent; or whether a church that both recognizes all elective
abortions as a sin while also recognizing the moral permissibility of elective
abortions (a violation of the Law of Non-Contradiction) is coherent; or whether
a church that recognizes the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist while
concurrently recognizing the Eucharist as only symbolic (a violation of the Law
of the Excluded Middle) is coherent.
The questions answer themselves, and the reason is because of,
well, reason. To be an inclusive community one must be a community in the first
place; and to be a community in the first place, one must have certain
definitional criteria that follow the most basic laws of logic. Otherwise, the
value of inclusion is, quite literally, nonsense, and, if followed to its
(il)logical end, means demanding that communities include even those who would
destroy their distinctive identities.
This is not
only a bad idea from a strategic point of view, but also absurd: the
“includers” would eventually become the “excluded,” and would therefore have
grounds to demand that they be included in the community that now excludes
them. And round and round the
inclusion wheel would go.
Welcoming Exclusion for
the Sake of Inclusion
It is
crucial to emphasize that this is not an argument
that inclusion is bad or to be avoided. The degree of balkanization we are
currently witnessing in society—especially along political and cultural lines,
where frictions among communities are increasing as “We are a community,
therefore respect us!” claims proliferate—is also one of the great problems of
our times. We have every reason to advocate for “big tent” political parties,
welcoming universities, workplaces where people feel they can belong, and
religious communities that extend hands to those who may feel left out.
But we have
every reason to advocate for coherence, as well. Many characteristics of a
community certainly are negotiable and can be flexible, even to the point of
breaking, in the name of inclusion. But some things, or at least some thing, must be
non-negotiable. So by all means, cast open those doors with warmth and
enthusiasm. Just don’t forget that they need walls to hold them up.
Matthew
Petrusek is an assistant professor of theological ethics at Loyola Marymount
University in Los Angeles, and the founder of Wisefaith Ministries.
Photo Wikimedia
