2. Would a progressive or a conservative be more likely to cut me in half?

A brief introduction to moral absolutism and moral relativism in Australian political discourse.

This is part two of a three-part series on the past, present, and future of Australian progressive ethics. For part one, click here. For part three, hit subscribe. And while I’ve got your attention, please hit the like button while you’re here, it makes a huge difference.

Australian progressives are quick to condemn socially conservative ideas when they arise domestically.

These same progressives proudly advocate for the many marginalised groups who suffer under socially conservative policies or visions governing everything from reproductive rights and ‘interventions’ in the Northern Territory, to ‘boat people’ and ‘international students’. And rightly so.

As of October 7 2024, these same progressives emerged as staunch proponents of some of the world’s most conservative organisations abroad. These organisations take their policy guidance from religious teachings in the middle east, and as a result make southern state Republicans sound woke by comparison.

So why are progressives so eager to gag at any mere whiff of social conservative policy domestically, but so desperately eager to condone if not celebrate its effects internationally should they be deemed culturally important?

Lucky for us, philosophers with much larger brains and much more experience have already done the heavy lifting required to help make sense of how and why this might have happened.

In the late British philosopher Mary Midgley’s essay ‘Trying Out One’s New Sword’ (1981), Midgley argues that we have a duty to apply our own ethical codes consistently.

The essay takes its name from an ancient Japanese custom called tsujigiri, in which a samurai might test out their new katana or fighting style on an unsuspecting wayfarer.

Midgley argues that regardless of when or where this practise takes place, the act of bisecting innocent people to test one’s sword is something that we should feel is within our rights to deem morally reprehensible. To refuse to make moral judgements on affairs outside one’s own context is to insist that each country and culture exist in separate isolated moral spheres, and that right and wrong is relative to the sphere in which the right or wrong is carried out.

Our moral codes inform our philosophies, our politics, and ultimately how we treat others. Most of us attribute our politics to an inner sense of right and wrong. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find someone at a ballot box claiming to be casting a vote amorally, or with no reference to what they believe is right. I have never heard someone say, “I voted for X because it just felt like the wrong thing to do”.  

Moral relativism assumes that different circumstances produce ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, and that it is not appropriate to level moral charges from one context at those living in another context, be the differences in those contexts geographical or heuristic. The moral relativist justifies the Japanese tradition on the grounds that, as mentioned above, every culture exists in its own ethical and isolated bubble.

Conversely, for a moral absolutist, ‘right’ is always ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ is always ‘wrong’, regardless of who is holding the sword, when they are holding the sword, or where they’re holding it.

A moral relativist therefore will not cast moral aspersions on the transgressions of their forefathers, or the violent actions of those in other countries. A moral relativist would deem it inappropriate to desecrate Captain Cook statues or to condemn the actions of Middle Eastern theocracies like the Taliban’s ever-tightening chokehold women.

Australia’s socially progressive direction contains within it a set of morally charged rejections of the dated and socially conservative visions for Australia mentioned in this essay’s first paragraph. Progressive attitudes towards social conservatism are, in the Australian context, what Midgley would refer to as an example of moral absolutism.

The inner-city moral absolutist doesn’t sit back and just accept that many Australians from a more rural cultural background are perfectly entitled to enjoy the Melbourne Cup, nor do they nod in acceptance that Queenslanders are just made a little bit different every time Bob Katter denies the existence of homosexuals in his electorate.

The moral absolutist decides on behalf of the USA, from all the way over here in Australia, that Trump’s ‘grab her by the pussy’ remarks deem him unfit for office. And quite frankly I think that this kind of moral absolutism—this kind of ethical consistency—is vital. We cannot change the goalposts for someone based on their name, race, religion or class.

The Australian moral absolutist applies a uniform condemnation of conservatism, which is something that you can’t have missed should you have set foot on a university campus over the last two decades. Any challenges to progressive values whether by word or action is denounced as holding back social progress and therefore a challenge to equality and social justice.

For the progressive, it is moral absolutism that undergirds his logical right to so chastise social conservatism. He has a moral responsibility to himself and to his fellows to ensure that, for example, anti-abortion conservatives are put in their box.

Interestingly though, the Australian progressive breaks from moral absolutism when they are asked whether or not they condemn Hamas’s actions on October 7. As it turns out, the moral absolutist, no matter how progressive, may defer to moral isolationism if and when it suits broader ideological or prejudicial goals.

In my next essay I will go a little more into how this fits in with so many Australian progressives’ support for violent and theocratic enterprises overseas.

Subscribe if you’d like it delivered directly to your mailbox.