IN THE run up to last week's football game against Wake Forest, it was hard to miss the pervasive anti-"not gay" chant campaign. The Minority Rights Coalition teamed up with Student Council and Queer and Allied Activism to flood Grounds with flyers and distribute stickers at the game. Even the normally staid Purple Shadows took part by giving Lawnies posters to put on their front doors.
Despite all the hoopla, the campaign seems to have backfired. While standing on the Hill watching the game, I saw and heard University students singing the chant as loud, if not louder, than usual. But Student Council President Lauren Tilton told me that she saw many people who normally say the chant refrain. Perhaps I was simply in an unfortunate spot. In either case, according to MRC Co-Chair Wyatt Fore, "The chant will always exist. We'll never be able to get rid of it totally." Given the controversy and politicization of the issue, it's worth taking a look at who exactly is saying the "not gay" chant.
There are two obvious suspects who might say the chant. First are devout Christians (or Jews or Muslims) who interpret of the Bible literally. Second are what I term "cultural homophobes." For the former, the Book of Leviticus makes plain that homosexuality is an "abomination." Yet this would lead religious students to worry about the state of their classmates' souls; it wouldn't make them desire to publicly humiliate others. Moreover, blatant public displays are simply not the religious community's style at the University. So the latter group appears to be the likely culprits.
Cultural homophobes probably grew up in an environment in which it was not alright to be gay. They now belong to social groups of people with similar views. Add a few beers, and it's no surprise they happily sing the "not gay" chant after touchdowns. But in America, people have a right to think anything they want, however absurd. We draw the line at acting on these foolish beliefs. This makes speech an especially tough case because it lies somewhere between hateful thoughts and actions.
Earlier attempts to eradicate hateful speech ended unsuccessfully. The "speech codes" of the 1980s and early 1990s tried to end hate speech by fiat. They dictated to university students what they were permitted and forbidden to say. Such draconian measures lent themselves to accusations of censorship and thought control. Given that the First Amendment affords the greatest protection of freedom of expression of most countries in the world, it was not surprising when courts started to strike down these codes.
In the perpetual conflict between individual liberty and protection from harm, Anglo-American thought errs on the side of liberty. John Maynard Keynes wrote, "Words ought to be a little wild." John Stuart Mill and John Milton each devoted hundreds of pages to defending freedom of speech. Even Thomas Jefferson got in on the act -- check out the quote above the masthead of The Cavalier Daily. Yet the essential distinction is between what people can say and what they ought to say.
This is exactly why social norms campaigns like the flyers and stickers are such good ideas. Homophobes have a constitutionally protected right to express their views. Mill defends people's right to say things that are clearly wrong, or in this case hurtful, because it affords us the opportunity to come together and reaffirm our shared beliefs. These, in turn, can convince others through the "marketplace of ideas." As Fore put it: "By raising awareness about the issue and allowing our allies to show solidarity, the sticker campaign truly succeeded in giving a voice to those who don't sing the not gay chant." But then why did the campaign, at least partially, backfire?
The answer is psychological. As I said before, those who say the chant belong to social groups in which homophobia is both expected and encouraged. Their self-esteem is deeply connected to their membership in these groups. Since the anti-chant campaign directly challenges a shared norm that helps hold the group together, they view it as an attack against their social group and, indirectly, their self-esteem.
Furthermore, according to Psychology Prof. Timothy Wilson, these students "want to be accepted by their peers, even if they know that what they are doing is offensive." So rather than internalize the shared values of the University community, they deal with their disconnect by strengthening their ties to the group by further embracing their shared norm of homophobia. The social norms campaign induces them to shout the "not gay" chant louder.
But the stubbornness of a few rotten apples is no reason to give up such a promising avenue for enacting positive social change. Unlike the heavy-handed approach of speech codes, the anti-chant campaign fulfils the Seventh Circuit Court's burden that "under the First Amendment, the government must leave to the people the evaluation of ideas." In the marketplace of ideas, the truth always prevails. It just sometimes takes a little while.
Josh Levy's columns appear Mondays in The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at jlevy@cavalierdaily.com.