No Nonsense in November, IV

(NB: This picture is meant partially in jest. Many of you may know that the Klan recently held a rally in support of proposition 2)

The noise you are about to hear is the sound of GR beating a dead horse:

A few more thoughts on Proposition 2, including an embarrassing confession of cowardice. First, though, I want to include a statement by someone I respect and admire (I pulled this statement out of a conversation happening at another blog):

Instead of legislating morality, I like to think of an ideal law as morally legislating. Instead of giving the impression that the law gives some ultimate idea of what's right and what's wrong, moral legislation would be a law-making that is informed by moral principles while still acknowledging the broad scope of what different persons would consider 'moral.' Moral legislation would not define what is moral but rather reflect and embody moral principles in its words, essence, and execution.

This would cut short a simple ends-means ratio of legislation. Moral legislation for an anti-abortionist seems like it would focus more on how to provide effective care, insurance, education, and general supportive social structure for children instead of on simply overturning a court ruling. Moral legislation for an anti-war person seems like it would focus more on diplomacy, self-aware consumption of goods, and an effort to engage rather than marginalize the ideology of 'opposition' instead of on simply trying to pull troops out of wherever we may be.

It simply is not possible to legislate morality (though, as J. Burton points out, it may be possible to morally legislate). Passing this amendment will not make me straight. Passing this amendment will not end my hopes of finding someone with whom I can spend the rest of my life. Those behind the amendment and those who will vote for it know this. So why push the amendment? Why fight so hard to amend the Texas Constitution?

As I mentioned below, I have spent some time calling potential voters to urge them to vote against Proposition 2. One caller summed up what I believe is at the root of this amendment. When I asked him why he was going to vote to ban gay marriage, even though it is already illegal in Texas, he replied: "They simply don't belong in Texas."

I want so badly for this all to really be about strengthening the institution of marriage. I want so badly for this all to be based on a carefully considered (though refutable) political philosophy. I want so badly for this all to be about "doing the right thing," or even about that ever-present bugaboo: judicial activism. But for most Texans, it simply isn't about policy; it is a gut reaction to a perceived evil. At root, this Constitutional Amendment is about the majority's discomfort with what a few men do in the bedroom. At root, many Texans just don't want gay people around. At root, we make many of you uncomfortable.

The backers of this amendment support it because, when it comes down to brass tacks, they believe Sodom got what it deserved when it was reduced to a smoldering pile of ash and sulfur and mangled bodies. Though they are wrong, they believe that a holocaust of fire was just punishment for a disgusting sex act performed by the men of a town (they ignore the fact that rape, and not love, was the goal of the Sodomites). They believe gay men and lesbians to be the moral descendants of these perverts (that's why they call us 'Sodomites' and wish they could still ban 'Sodomy').

Now, most of the backers of the amendment won't say the above out loud. Most wouldn't put it in such absolute and graphic terms. Most don't hate LGBT persons. They may instead say that lesbians and gays are 'broken' and need 'healing.' They may say that they are only banning gay marriage in hopes that fewer people will accept the so-called gay lifestyle, or because they don't want society to endorse the choice of a few misguided individuals. But the euphemisms are inadequate to mask the heart of the argument: gay sex sends you to hell, so coercive power of the state must be used to stop people from doing it.

I do not think most Texans hate gays. I don't think a majority of Texans want to see all legal protections for gay couples eliminated. I do think, though that a majority of Texans have been convinced that, if you believe it is wrong to be gay, you must vote to ban gay marriage (that is, they have been convinced that moral disapproval is a sufficient condition for banning gay marriage). Most are missing the fact that the logic doesn't add up. Moral disapproval of an action (or a group) is neither a necessary condition nor a sufficient condition for banning an action.

Sure, let's have a policy debate about the parameters of state-sanctioned marriage. Let's even talk about whether the government should be involved in marriage at all. We could talk about how marriage rights for gays and lesbians could have a stabilizing effect on the gay community. We can talk about how gays and lesbians should be considered equal under the law. We can talk about how a ban on gay marriage is unconstitutional sex discrimination. We can even make conservative and traditionalist cases for gay marriage.

But instead, when the polls close at 7 p.m., I suspect we will discover that it was not policy considerations that carried the day. We will likely discover that, when it comes down to it, the LGBT community just doesn't belong in Texas. We aren't wanted because, in a state dominated by evangelical, fundamentalist, and conservative Christians, we are still nothing more than Sodomites.

And now my confession of cowardice: yes, I donated money to defeat the amendment; yes, I called potential voters to get out the vote; yes, I voted against the amendment. But I was scared of one group of people: my family. I didn't call my parents, my siblings, or any of my extended family. Perhaps this was Southern sensibility: you just don't talk politics with the family. Perhaps this was my pragmatic side coming out: I'm pretty sure I know how they will vote, so what's the point? In reality, though, there was more: I'm afraid my family will stop speaking to me again. I'm afraid that asking for their votes will be the tipping point. I lost my family once, and I don't want to lose them again.

I cannot speak to my family about my desire to start my own family because, if I do, I risk losing the family I already have. I think they call this a Catch-22, but I'm not sure.