Tainted Love?

Love didn’t wait for Valentine’s Day to hit Harvard this year. Just ask Tony Perkins, president of the Family Research Council (FRC), who was at the Law School last Monday to weigh in on the Massachusetts same-sex marriage debate. Perkins’ family values troupe condescendingly tacks quotes onto every mention of the word “gay” in its publications as it decries the menacing “homosexual agenda” and its purported influence over our children. All the while, the FRC manages to demonize feminism and rebuff religion outside of the strictest Judeo-Christian tradition. But don’t worry: the council loves gays and everyone else. Of homosexuals, Perkins gushed, “I have Thanksgiving dinner with them, I have Christmas dinner with them. I love them.”

The Thanksgiving table is arguably the biggest buffet of exoneration for the fundamentalists trying to enshrine discrimination in our Constitution and push the social discourse ever rightward. This past summer, I worked in the State House as a legislative intern. At one intern forum, I asked Massachusetts House Speaker Thomas M. Finneran, D-Mattapan, about equal rights in the state, and he too went off on some tangent about the fourth Thursday in November. Apparently, self-congratulation and the coveted moral high ground come ready-made with the stuffing and string bean casserole. If you give some polite face time to your lesbian Aunt Trudy—maybe even to her partner—it seems you’re absolved of your sins of judgment for the rest of the year.

This ploy, however, is emblematic of a vaguer philosophical pronouncement that extends well beyond the intimate family gathering: “hate the sin, love the sinner.” There’s Cupid again; in practice, though, the well-worn axiom’s “love” often ends up as no more than lip service. There is perhaps nothing more disingenuous than claiming that you love someone for whom you actually harbor visceral contempt, but apparently saying the word is enough to some. In this case, “love” becomes a license for intolerance, an empty word that might help people like Perkins get through the day a little bit easier.

The misuses of “love” don’t end there. “Love thy neighbor as thyself” (Leviticus 19:18) has emerged as a cliché of biblical proportions in modern society—with good reason. One could hardly imagine a more humanitarian aphorism; it manages to encapsulate our most basic conceptions of morality, justice and equality. Religious people of many faiths are correct in saying that God commands them to love in this sense, and the more agnostic among us can be motivated by basic human decency. But what should this love entail? Probably something more than just saying that you love someone, or everyone, for that matter. Too often can “love”—the all-powerful word itself—become a rationalization or an excuse for much worse treatment. Claims of love can grant a unique, illusory power over a person, as any number of abused children or spouses know.

In cases like that of Perkins and his love for gays, some would rightfully note that love is not synonymous with moral agreement—that perhaps Perkins isn’t being entirely insincere in his open-armed embrace. But while we expect to weather the occasional storm in all of our loving relationships, we don’t expect those storms to be the very foundation of the relationship. “I love yous” rooted in such harsh moral judgments are copouts, condescending and meaningless. They are the ideological soulmates of the racist’s defense that he has lots of black friends: they might sound nice, but ultimately they mean nothing without more fundamental change. How can we make sure “love” is more than a slogan? We each have to figure out the specifics for ourselves, but I think we can agree on a few simple ground rules: an open mind, a respect for differences, an awareness of others’ feelings, a willingness to reach out to people, a wish for reciprocation.

We have lots of different types of love: romantic love, love of family, love of friends, love of humanity, love of God, love of country, love of music, love of nature. Though the English language forces them under one sometimes-uncomfortable tent, there’s certainly room for them all. But when a certain type of so-called love starts to foster the opposite, maybe it’s time to come up with a new word. I would urge Perkins and his cronies to stop peddling a brand of love cheaper than the kind you find on those Valentine’s Day Sweethearts®, where “I love you” is wedged somewhere between “UR Hot” and “Email Me.” If extremists continue to monger their watered-down catchphrase, it may undermine the very sanctity of the institution of love, the bedrock of society. And where would that leave our children?

Jared M. Seeger ’05 is a government concentrator in Pforzheimer House.