It’s important to make clear what the difference between us is. I’m not looking to defend Dawkins’ remark, and I said as much in my post. Nor am I saying that it was unreasonable for Norm to take him to task for saying it, as I also made clear. I am criticising the manner in which he did it.

Norm lays out his objections to my sentence: “the really important question is: Is Richard Dawkins an antisemite?”

I accept his reasons for doing so: he’s right. What I should have said is: “a really important question is: Is Richard Dawkins an anti-Semite?”

Norm agrees: “I’m not saying the attitude with which the act is carried out doesn’t matter. It does.”

I stand by my complaint that it was incumbent on him (and the other writers I mentioned) when discussing such an important topic as racism in public life, to address this side of the coin.

Norm has written about the power of racist language, the potency of words and symbols, and their impact beyond the intended meaning of those who use them. My point is complementary to his: it is about the power of anti-racist language, and the need for accuracy and appropriateness. Here too, precise words matter.

Norm looks at Richard Dawkins’ comment, and considers its implications when taken at face value (and very ugly they are too). It seems only fair to do the same for Norm’s original post. He said: “Dawkins’s organization is to be called the ‘Out Campaign’. What, not the ‘Association for Propagating Poisonous Myths’?”

Taken literally, the scenario conjured up is one where Richard Dawkins has set up an international organisation devoted to spreading poisonous myths about Jews. i.e not only is he an anti-Semite, but an obsessive, evangelising anti-Semite.

I don’t suggest for a nanosecond that Norm actually believes anything so ludicrous, and he now explains – unnecessarily – that he meant it facetiously. But had I, Norm-like, written a post in which I addressed “only a question about the character of what he said”, divorced from the related questions of why he said it, or what he actually thinks, then that’s where we would leave it. Would that be fair to him, or to this site’s readers? Or would I have been remiss?

So, when Norm writes: “my concern wasn’t to state, imply, assume, that Richard Dawkins is an anti-Semite”, I’m bound to observe that is the literal implication of his words nevertheless. His lack of concern about it is *precisely* the source of my complaint.

Norm insists that his intention wasn’t to discuss Dawkins’ opinions at all, but simply to “register” the nature of his words. But Normblog isn’t some neutral depository of information, it’s the weblog of an influential opinion-former. People visit it, in large numbers, and leave with their ideas about the world modified. Therefore Norm’s words, like Dawkins’, are liable to have consequences beyond his immediate aims.

There has been a discussion taking place in the blogosphere about Richard Dawkins: not about his words in isolation, but also about the man himself, and specifically his attitudes to Jews. Some writers have levelled accusations of outright bigotry at him, a few others have come to his defence. Despite now stating that he had no intention of discussing this question at all, Norm’s first post has nevertheless been understood by some as coming down on the side of the prosecution. (A look at Technorati confirms this point.)

Is Norm responsible for the meanings that other people read into his words? To the extent that this reaction was entirely foreseeable, yes he is. By focussing exclusively on half of the issue (Dawkins’ words), and leaving his readers to fill in the remaining blanks according to taste, he unwittingly suggested a conclusion that he himself sees no reason to accept.

He now says “I don’t know [Dawkins] at all, but I would be surprised to discover that he was [an anti-Semite].” For myself, I’d be flabbergasted. That doesn’t excuse his words, and I’ve never said that it does. But it is obviously relevant to their ordinary digestion: interpreting them in context, trying to discern their intended meaning, and so on. It strongly suggests my “foot in mouth” hypothesis over, for instance, Daniel Finkelstein’s: that “Dawkins… believes… that Jews control world power.”

Says Norm:
“Prejudice is not only carried in people’s minds; it resides in language, it resides in symbols, it can be part of certain institutional practices…. Racism is more than an attitude or a set of emotions, though it is these things. But there is also a language of prejudice, there are forms of words that come to be associated with particular racisms…”

I wholeheartedly agree with all of this. Furthermore, I believe that it has consequences for anyone (such as Norm or myself) who opposes racism: when you are confronted with a racist incident and wish to discuss or counteract it, you need to consider its nature with some care. This might not be straightforward: racists may go to great lengths to conceal their true views; non-racists may use racist language through carelessness, or whatever; there are endless other examples.

I’m certainly not arguing that blind eyes need – ever – be turned. What I’m proposing is a “horses for courses” approach to racist language. The neo-Nazi needs exposing and excluding from the public sphere. The naif who unintentionally uses a racist term needs taking aside and having the error of his ways politely explained. In between is a whole spectrum of accidental, unconscious, and conscious bigotry. Anyone wishing to combat it should tailor their criticism to the case in hand.

To sum up, I’m in total agreement with Norm that racism is a complex and subtle matter, concealing itself within common language and culture, just as much as in the clear, conscious opinions of any individual. But my conclusion is that those of us who wish to combat it must be sensitive to this subtlety, and in turn mindful of our own use of language.

Norm wasn’t. He tossed out a one-size-fits-all, facetious accusation of anti-Semitism. Well I say it didn’t fit.

Postscript: Norm says the following in his response to my post:

“The only puzzle here is why some people think that in one case and one case alone, namely that of anti-Semitism, you have no evidence for it unless you have an overt expression of hatred or an act of discrimination or violence.”

I don’t know if “here” in the first sentence is a reference to his and my discussion, or if “some people” includes me. But if so, then I reject this allegation.

Here is what riled them. In an interview with the Guardian, Dawkins said: “When you think about how fantastically successful the Jewish lobby [in the US] has been, though, in fact, they are less numerous I am told – religious Jews anyway – than atheists and [yet they] more or less monopolise American foreign policy as far as many people can see. So if atheists could achieve a small fraction of that influence, the world would be a better place.”

Norman Geras accuses him of “Propagating Poisonous Myths”.

Daniel Finklestein in the Times says: “So Dawkins, a liberal hero, believes, er, that Jews control world power. And, judging from the Guardian, it is now a part of mainstream debate to say so. Perhaps you think I am over-reacting, but I am a little bit frightened… All I can manage is Oh My God.”

To which Oliver Kamm helpfully adds: “That was my initial reaction too. Yet on reflection, I suspect I have misjudged Dawkins’s statement. It is in fact much worse than Daniel suggests…. disgraceful.”

Stephen Pollard wades in, taking a free kick at “Dawkins[‘] ignorant bigotry”.

Even the usually magnificent Stumbling and Mumbling chips in.

I am not suggesting for a second that antisemitism in public-life should be tolerated. So surely the really important question is: Is Richard Dawkins an antisemite?

None of these writers even bother to address this question.

The tacit assumption is: of course he is – look at what he said. Or, even better, look at what Finklestein said he said: “Jews control world power”.

I agree with D-squared and Jonathan Pearce: it is blindingly obvious that he is nothing of the kind.

The Israel lobby in the US is undoubtedly powerful (as is the gun lobby, the evangelical Christian lobby, the Saudi lobby, the Irish lobby, and the rest). To appeal to this fact is palpably not racist (as David Goldberg on CIF argues).

Dawkins was appealing to this fact, as a point of comparison for what he thinks his “atheist lobby” could achieve. For various reasons, possibly including that he was (i) clumsily weaving it into his own silly narrative about religion causing all the world’s problems, (ii) exaggerating for (ill-judged) effect, (iii) naively unaware that he was treading on eggshells, (iv) being interviewed, not writing an article, so unable to go back and edit his words — he ended up with his foot rather badly in his mouth.

Let me have a guess what may happen next: Dawkins will, in due course, return to this issue. He’ll admit that his choice of wording was poor, and that he came over badly in the interview. He’ll make clear that he doesn’t believe in secret cabals of Jews running the world, and he isn’t an antisemite. In all of these respects he’ll be completely correct.

But none of the commentators mentioned above will bother to report this: for his name has now been entered into the Great Big Book Of Bigots, in indelible ink.

The beauty of this is that no opinion expressed by him need ever be seriously entertained again. For evermore anything he says can be dismissed with a simple “Let us not forget, this is the man who…”

OK, I’m probably overstating the case. But I do find it endlessly depressing that we seem to be rapidly heading to a US model of political blogging, not only gutted of nuance, but increasingly factually unreliable because the emphasis is not on discussing ideas or indeed any aspect of reality, but on getting mud to stick to one’s enemies.

So we’ll have big tribes of bloggers waiting for their next opportunity to attack, Michelle Malkins and Daily Koses battering seven bells out of each other, endowing each others’ words with the most uncharitable interpretations possible, while portraying themselves as the only remaining islands of civility in an ocean of bigotry. This is the politics of idiots: full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Of course, when it comes to deploying accusations of antisemitism in anger, one woman stands head and shoulders above the crowd. So no surprise that she has lambasted Dawkins in typically hyperbolic terms.

There is no reasoning to be had with Mad Mel. But anyone else rushing to stick the boot in would do well to read this piece by Jonathan Freedland on the perils of emulating her approach: not only are individual reputations arbitrarily and unfairly trashed, but worse, the currency of language itself becomes dangerously devalued through constant misuse.

Dawkins’ comment was stupid, thoughtless, and wrong. And yes, it probably would have received a cheer from anyone reading who really does believe that Jews run the world. So he undoubtedly deserved a rap across his knuckles. But it is downright nonsense to pretend to be “a little bit frightened” by him, or to say that his views about Jews are “poisonous”.

Antisemitism is a real phenomenon in the real world. The only people helped by the misappropriation of this concept are the real antisemites, for whom it provides invaluable cover.

[Update: Normblog has a response to this post, and I have a response to his reponse.]

But if Gordon Brown wants access to a vast system of interlinked databases, containing the personal details of millions of people, wouldn’t it be cheaper and easier for him just to join Facebook?

Suppose mafioso A pays hitman B to kill politician C. Is B any less a murderer than if he’d committed the crime off his own back? Obviously not: he’s 100% guilty. But does it follow that A is not responsible for the killing? Again, clearly not: it was his actions and his intentions which led to the politician’s death, 100%. But what if A decided to kill C because of informant D, who tipped him off about C’s planned crack-down on organised crime. Then doesn’t D also deserve some blame for C’s death? And if so, does that lessen the guilt of either A or B? Again, and of course, no.

In principle there’s no limit to the number of people who can be responsible for the same crime: suppose a man is strapped into an electric chair, and a group of people each have a green and a red button in front of them. If all of them press the red button, then the man fries, but if even one of them presses the green button then he goes free. The experiment is performed, and the man dies. Now isn’t each and every button-presser responsible for his death? And does the size of the group make any difference whatsoever?

Of course the psychology doesn’t work that way: if the group is a thousand strong, the amount of guilt that each button-presser feels may well be lower than if the group consisted of just one person. But psychology’s a poor indicator of responsibility: people can feel terrible guilt for events which are completely beyond their control. I’d say that under any decent moral or legal system, every member of the group should be judged a murderer.

The point of all this is to dispel the fallacy that for a given event, there is a fixed, finite amount of responsibility which must be divided up cake-like between the parties involved. This results in bogus arguments along the lines of: “Well if you think that apparently decent person 1 shares some of the responsibility for this atrocity, then you must think that evil bastard 2 is less than fully responsible for their actions. You ****ing ****er&%!?!!”. It’s rubbish: some tragedies are no-one’s fault at all, others require contributions from lots of individuals, some essential to the outcome, others acting to ratchet up the likelihood of disaster.

A couple of examples of this in action: many people (including me) believe that the War in Iraq significantly increased the risk of terrorist attacks against in the UK, and therefore lay some blame for the 7/7 bombings at the door of the government. Does that mean that we think that the bombers themselves are anything less than 100% responsible for their dreadful actions? Are we moral determinists offering excuses for terror? Of course not.

Secondly, rape: it’s obvious that through her behaviour, a woman can put herself at a greater or lesser risk of being raped. To take an extreme example, if she chooses to spend the night blind drunk, on her own with a known sex-offender, in his bedroom, dressed only in her underwear, then no-one sane could disagree that she was putting herself at a huge risk. (Even under these circumstances I wouldn’t want to say that it was her fault that she was raped, just on compassionate grounds.) So to suggest that women should avoid taking wreckless risks, and take sensible steps to ensure their safety, is only common sense. But is any of this to diminish, even slightly, the responsibility of any man who commits this horrible crime? No, not for a second.

Far less well-known is its eccentric younger cousin: paraconsistent logic. In most versions of this, the middle is again excluded, so each statement must be either true or false, but now some are allowed be both true and false. In all other systems this type of contradiction would spell immediate meltdown, but paraconsistent logic is built to cope with it: it is inconsistency-tolerant.

 

Though this avant-garde logic is intriguing, surprisingly coherent, and has applications in both the foundations of mathematics, and in computer science, the problem is that it seems to lack a natural model. Some people have suggested, not entirely persuasively, that it might be used to handle wave/particle duality in quantum physics, or to provide a means of resolving self-referential conundrums, such as the liar paradox.

I’d suggest that the best model for this peculiar new logic is New Labour: paraconsistent to the core, it both is, and isn’t a Labour government.

For an example of paraconsistency in policy-making, take the recently announced plans for the labelling of homeopathic medicines, which may read “Contents: 100% water. This product can be used in the treatment of lung-cancer”. Which of course it can, despite all the evidence saying that it can’t.

A paraconsistent approach also provides neat resolutions to the major questions of the New Labour era. For instance: Did British foreign policy cause the 7/7 bombings? Well no, obviously it didn’t. And yes it did.

Because it is specifically designed to withstand it, this whirl of contradictions needn’t entail the collapse of the whole party machine, or even indicate any problem whatsoever. The system is simply functioning as it was intended to. New Labour is inconsistency-tolerant.