It seems only appropriate that I am incredibly ambivalent about Peter Singer’s recent obituary for Harriet McBryde Johnson in the New York Times. After all, her writing reveals that she herself was ambivalent toward the man, who lays out philosophical arguments for why parents should have the option to kill infants with certain kinds of disabilities. Many in the disability rights movement are outraged that he was asked to write the piece because he has openly acknowledged that her parents should have had the right to kill her as an infant, if they so chose. It does seem counter-intuitive to ask a person who publicly puts forth some of the most deeply abelist views possible to tell the story of a vitally important leader in the disability community. However, if we take Harriet’s description of her own life’s work seriously, we see that she has come to terms with Singer as a human being and not a monster, so why should we close ourselves off from her understanding of the man and continue to demonize him?
In her book chapter about her arguments with Singer - Unspeakable Conversations, her journey toward seeing him as a human and not a monster is a central theme. Surely, his philosophical views are not something we should stop resisting in every way we can at every opportunity, but can we afford to ignore the lessons she has to teach crip activists about focusing our outrage on systems of oppression and ideologies rather than individual people? That is a central point of her reflections on her relationship with Singer.

RIP Harriet
She hesitates to even shake his hand upon their first meeting, but after genuinely trying to understand his ideas and how they were developed Harriet concludes: “If I define Singer’s kind of disability prejudice as an ultimate evil, and him as a monster, then I must so define all who believe disabled lives are inherently likely to be less happy, or that a life without a certain kind of consciousness lacks value. That would make monsters of many of the people with whom I move on the sidewalks, do business, break bread, swap stories, and share the grunt work of politics. The definition would reach some of my family and most of my nondisabled friends, people who show me enormous kindness and who somehow, sometimes manage to love me through their ignorance. I can’t live with a definition of ultimate evil that encompasses all of them. I can’t refuse the monster-majority basic courtesy, respect, and human sympathy. It’s not in my heart to deny every single one of them, categorically, my affection and love” (227-8).
Key lesson: don’t demonize people for being honest about opinions that most people hold silently. This is simply a way of scapegoating. I do think that Harriet is completely right in this regard. Singer and other bioethicists have become the whipping boys of many within the disability movement. Surely, his biases are tremendously harmful to us and his arguments must be refuted. However, these arguments are grounded in the same biases that we encounter every day of lives, even with those we hold closest to us. Demonizing Singer does not help our cause, but makes us look irrational.
So, if Harriet is right and we cannot reject Singer as “categorically evil,” does this mean that we should uncritically accept him as a spokesman for telling the final chapter of her story in the New York Times? One objection that I think needs to be raised is the notion that she should be defined only in contrast to him. That is, Harriet’s life and work were important in their own right and should be remembered as such. It seems wrong to characterize this leader within our community as only an opponent of Singer’s positions who happened to once allow herself to be tokenized and invited to Princeton (note: Harriet herself describes this experience as a tokenization). It seems to me, her work to resist the telethon, at the very least, deserves equal air time when publicly summarizing her life. The offense is not THAT Peter Singer wrote the article, but that it did not do her justice as a force unto herself.
So, my objection to Singer’s obituary is not offense at him being some kind of monster. This would be counter-productive to our cause in that he and others clearly responded better to Harriet’s measured argument than Not Dead Yet style civil disobedience. This is true for philosophers as a general rule, I’d say. If we are to silence dangerous opinions, we must do it with arguments of our own that show the opinion holders and the public at large why we are right. Sometimes, when we are silenced we must use our collective action to get the attention of powers that be with tactics like civil disobedience. But, once we are taken seriously by our opponents in the public sphere, it is time to move past the chanting and the arrests and address our opponents how we wish to be addressed, as fellow human beings.







January 18th, 2009 at 2:52 pm
A nicely written piece and one that draws from McBride Johnson in its generosity. Nice to know who the author is but even without that … a good reminder.
January 28th, 2009 at 1:29 am
[...] 27, 2009 at 10:29 pm (Uncategorized) (Harriet McBryde Johnson, Peter Singer) about the piece remembering Harriet McBride Johnson, written by, of all people, Peter [...]
October 13th, 2009 at 9:25 am
I think I can be angry at other people’s bigotry, including the people in my life and family members, without being filled with hate. It is justified anger and moves me to action and to educate people. Being angry at someone who thinks I would be better off dead is a rational reaction. It isn’t “demonizing” them or thinking they’re monsters to tell them off. I think it’s important for us to be able to be angry and still heard.
I’d talk to Singer too, but I don’t think he should have written her obituary.