Single-Issue Uncomfortableness

Mark Galli writes today "on single-issue activists" and how they make him uncomfortable. He says:

Gay marriage opponents argue that legalizing homosexual marriage will signal the end of the family, the bedrock of civilization.

Creation care advocates tell us that if we don't reverse global warming soon, a planetary catastrophe awaits us.

Pro-lifers remind us not only of the sheer volume of annual abortions, but also that such casual treatment of human life, if left unchecked, will dehumanize our society to the point of barbarism.

In each case, the logic is simple: If this particular problem gets out of hand (if it hasn't already), the rest of the institutions of civilization will collapse like a string of dominoes. The argument seems irrefutable. One is hard-pressed to disagree. Nonetheless, I squirm under the relentless logic.

Galli goes on:

One reason is that when we mix passion and the logic, we end up with a bitter aftertaste. I expect each activist to make his most compelling case. But by the end of the pitch, I often feel manipulated. It's like I'm at a revival, where the preacher holds the fires of hell in front of me to prompt me to come forward and repent. When it comes to evangelism, we abandoned that technique long ago. These evangelical genes, though, often kick in again when we're trying to convince others to sign on to our social cause.

Another reason is that I have long been suspicious of "single-issue" activists. I imagine myself thoughtful and reasonable, and chuckle at people whose vote hinges simplistically on a single issue. I prefer the company of other journalists and pundits, as we drink our trade-free coffee, discuss the enormous complexity of the world, and how we're going to write about that in the next issue, again.

He concludes:

Yes, I still often find single-issue activists annoying and their arguments sometimes manipulative. But I also recognize that my reluctance to sign up often has little to do with overblown rhetoric or pushy personalities. Sometimes it can be chalked up to an unwillingness to risk all, to actually live a Jesus-life of sacrifice. I call it living a balanced life, or good stewardship of time and resources, or the pursuit of contemplative spirituality! It may be such for others. I suspect for me, it's sometimes just cowardice.

I'm not sure why he wrote this piece. A confession of his personal, inner struggle, I suppose? What frustrated me was his inaccurate, narrow description of why single-issue activists propound their issue so forcefully:

In each case, the logic is simple: If this particular problem gets out of hand (if it hasn't already), the rest of the institutions of civilization will collapse like a string of dominoes. The argument seems irrefutable. One is hard-pressed to disagree. Nonetheless, I squirm under the relentless logic.

This is unnecessarily narrow. I could agree that this is one reason why you would want to curb gay marriage or abortion, or help the environment. But is the only argument one of utilitarianism? The main reason I oppose abortion is because it is immoral, not because it is a slippery slope (even though it is). Even if we discovered that abortion helped society, I would still oppose it because killing babies is wrong.

Mark does go on to speak about abolitionists and Nazi-resistors and how they clearly were doing what was right, despite their passion for one issue. Nevertheless, one must wonder why he brings up utilitarianism at all. It points to the social philosophy of Bentham more than it does Christian morality. And this confuses the debate altogether.

If you're so inclined, read the whole thing. Though I don't know how helpful it will be to you.