Jeremy Waldron's new book, "The Harm in Hate Speech,"
might well be called "The Harm in Free Speech"; for Waldron, a
professor of law and political theory at New York University and Oxford,
argues that the expansive First Amendment we now possess allows the
flourishing of harms a well-ordered society ought not permit.
Waldron
is especially concerned with the harm done by hate speech to the
dignity of those who are its object. He is careful to distinguish
"dignity harms" from the hurt feelings one might experience in the face
of speech that offends. Offense can be given by almost any speech act -
in particular circumstances one might offend by saying "hello" - and
Waldron agrees with those who say that regulating offensive speech is a
bad and unworkable idea.
But harms to dignity, he contends,
involve more than the giving of offense. They involve undermining a
public good, which he identifies as the "implicit assurance" extended to
every citizen that while his beliefs and allegiance may be criticized
and rejected by some of his fellow citizens, he will nevertheless be
viewed, even by his polemical opponents, as someone who has an equal
right to membership in the society. It is the assurance - not given
explicitly at the beginning of each day but built into the community's
mode of self-presentation - that he belongs, that he is the undoubted
bearer of a dignity he doesn't have to struggle for.
Waldron's
thesis is that hate speech assaults that dignity by taking away that
assurance. The very point of hate speech, he says, "is to negate the
implicit assurance that a society offers to the members of vulnerable
groups - that they are accepted as a matter of course, along with
everyone else." Purveyors of hate "aim to undermine this assurance, call
it in question, and taint it with visible expressions of hatred,
exclusion and contempt."
"Visible" is the key word. It is the
visibility of leaflets, signs and pamphlets asserting that the group you
belong to is un-American, unworthy of respect, and should go back
where it came from that does the damage, even if you, as an individual,
are not a specific target. "In its published, posted or pasted-up form,
hate speech can become a world-defining activity, and those who
promulgate it know very well - this is part of their intention - that
the visible world they create is a much harder world for the targets of
their hatred to live in." (Appearances count.)
Even though hate
speech is characterized by First Amendment absolutists as a private act
of expression that should be protected from government controls and
sanctions, Waldron insists that "hate speech and defamation are actions
performed in public, with a public orientation, aimed at undermining
public goods." That undermining is not accomplished by any particular
instance of hate speech.
But just as innumerable individual
automobile emissions can pollute the air, so can innumerable expressions
of supposedly private hate combine to "produce a large-scale toxic
effect" that operates as a "slow-acting poison." And since what is
being poisoned is the well of public life, "it is natural," says
Waldron, "to think that the law should be involved - both in its ability
to underpin the provision of public goods and in its ability to express
and communicate common commitments." After all, he reminds us,
"Societies do not become well ordered by magic."
Waldron observes
that legal attention to large-scale structural, as opposed to
individual, harms is a feature of most other Western societies, which,
unlike the United States, have hate speech regulations on their books.
He finds it "odd and disturbing that older and cruder models remain
dominant in the First Amendment arena." But as he well knows, it is not
so odd within the perspective of current First Amendment rhetoric,
which is militantly libertarian, protective of the individual's right
of self-assertion no matter what is being asserted, and indifferent
(relatively) to the effects speech freely uttered might have on the
fabric of society.
It was not always thus. At one time, both the
content and effects of speech were taken into account when the issue of
regulation was raised. Is this the kind of speech we want our children
to see and hear? Are the effects of certain forms of speech so
distressing and potentially dangerous that we should take steps to
curtail them? Is this form of speech a contribution to the search for
truth? Does it have a redeeming social value? Since New York Times v. Sullivan
(1964) these questions, which assess speech in terms of the impact it
has in the world, have been replaced by a simpler question - is it
speech? - that reflects a commitment to speech as an almost sacrosanct
activity. If the answer to that question is "yes," the presumption is
that it should be protected, even though the harms it produces have been
documented.
Waldron wants to bring back the focus on those harms and restore the reputation of Beauharnais v. Illinois
(1952), in which the Supreme Court upheld a group libel law. The case
turned on the conviction of a man who had distributed leaflets warning
Chicagoans to be alert to the dangers of mongrelization and rape that
will surely materialize, he claimed, if white people do not unite
against the Negro. Speaking for the majority, Justice Felix Frankfurter
wrote that "a man's job and his educational opportunities and the
dignity accorded him may depend as much on the reputation of the racial
group to which he willy-nilly belongs as on his own merit."
With
the phrase "on his own merit," Frankfurter gestures toward the view of
dignity he is rejecting, the view in which dignity wells up from the
inside of a man (or woman) and depends on an inner strength that
asserts itself no matter how adverse or hostile external circumstances
may be, including the circumstance in which the individual is confronted
with signs, posters and pamphlets demeaning his race or ethnic origin
or religion or sexual preference. In this picture, the responsibility
for maintaining dignity rests with the individual and not with any state
duty to devise rules and regulations to protect it.
Some who take
this position argue that if the individual feels victimized by
expressions of hate directed at the group to which he "willy-nilly"
belongs, that is his or her own choice. Waldron's example is C. Edwin
Baker ("Harm, Liberty and Free Speech,"
Southern California Law Review, 1997), who writes: "A speaker's racial
epithet ... harms the hearer only through her understanding of the
message and [harm] occurs only to the extent that the hearer
(mentally) responds one way rather than another, for example, as a
victim rather than as a critic of the speaker."
In this classic
instance of blaming the victim, the fault lies with a failure of
resolve; self-respect was just not strong enough to rise to the occasion
in a positive way. Waldron calls this position "silly" (it is the
majority's position in Plessy v. Ferguson)
and points out that it mandates and celebrates a harm by requiring
victims of hate speech to grin and bear it: "It should not be
necessary," he declares, "for [hate speech victims] to laboriously
conjure up the courage to go out and try to flourish in what is now
presented to them as a hostile environment." The damage, Waldron
explains, is already done by the speech "in requiring its targets to
resort to the sort of mental mediation that Baker recommends." To the
extent that those targets are put on the defensive, "racist speech has
already succeeded in one of its destructive aims."
Notice that
here (and elsewhere in the book), Waldron refuses to distinguish
sharply between harm and representation. In the tradition he opposes,
harm or hurt is physically defined; one can be discomforted and
offended by speech; but something more than speech or image is required
for there to be genuine (and legally relevant) damage. After all,
"sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me."
No, says Waldron (and here he follows Catharine MacKinnon's argument about pornography), the speech is the damage: "[T]he harms emphasized in this book are often harms constituted by speech rather than merely caused
by speech." If the claim were that the harm is caused by speech, there
would be room to challenge the finding by pointing to the many
intervening variables that break or complicate the chain of causality.
But there is no chain to break if harm is done the moment hate speech is
produced. "The harm is the dispelling of assurance, and the dispelling of assurance is the speech act."
Waldron
knows that the underlying strategy of those he writes against is to
elevate the status of expression to an ultimate good and at the same
time either deny the harm - the statistics are inconclusive; the claims
cannot be proved - or minimize it in relation to the threat regulation
poses to free expression. If "free speech trumps any consideration of
social harm almost any showing of harm resulting from hate speech
will be insufficient to justify restrictions on free speech of the kind
that we are talking about."
In short, the game is over before it
begins if your opponent can be counted on to say that either there is no
demonstrated harm or, no matter how much harm there may be, it will not
be enough to justify restrictions on speech. If that's what you're up
against, there is not much you can do except point out the categorical
intransigence of the position and offer an (unflattering) explanation
of it.
Waldron's explanation is that the position is formulated
and presented as an admirable act of unflinching moral heroism by white
liberal law professors who say loudly and often that we must tolerate
speech we find hateful. Easy to say from the protected perch of a
faculty study, where the harm being talked about is theoretical and not
experienced.
But what about the harm done "to the groups who
are denounced or bestialized in pamphlets, billboards, talk radio and
blogs? Can their lives be led, can their children be brought up, can
their hopes be maintained and their worst fears dispelled in a social
environment polluted by those materials"?
Waldron answers "no,"
and he challenges society and its legal system to do something about it.
But the likelihood that something will be done is slim if Waldron is
right about the state of First Amendment discourse: "[I]n the American
debate, the philosophical arguments about hate speech are knee-jerk,
impulsive and thoughtless." Not the arguments of this book, however;
they hit the mark every time.