Which is worse? Being called a racial epithet (pick the one that most suits your ethnicity) or being betrayed by a dear friend, amongst whom I shall one’s spouse. Contrary to what the norms of political correctness hold, I maintain that in the typical case being betrayed by a dear friend is much more morally traumatic than being called a racial epithet by a known-bigot. A moment’s reflection should suffice to show that this is so.
When is the last time you can remember being the object of racial slur by a dear friend? If you are like me, there have been no such instances. And that, of course, is just the point. Racial slurs invariably come from those who we are already know have deep racial biases (towards whites or blacks or Asians or Arabs or whatever).
Here is a simple way to put the point. Suppose that you know that Sampson has rather strong KKK or Black Panther sympathies. Well, would you be surprised if in the fit tremendous anger Sampson called you a kike (the KKK person) or racist (that Black Panther person) if you are Jew in one case or a white in the other? Surely not! And to get worked up over the fact that Sampson did would be rather like getting worked up over the fact that a propeller plane does not move through the air like a jet does. No one in her or his right mind can expect a propeller plane to do that.
Well, to know that Sampson has strong KKK or Black Panther sympathies is to know that he has unreasonable and indefensible racial attitudes. Thus, the more appropriate surprise should be that it took the person so long to utter a racial slur—and not that the individual eventually did so.
If someone presents herself or himself as bigoted, it is rather foolish to have expectations of that person with regard to racial attitudes that apply only to someone who is not bigoted.
The betrayal of dear friend is an entirely different matter entirely. For one thing, a dear friend has presented herself or himself as someone who cares rather deeply about one’s well-being-even one’s flourishing. A dear friend has presented herself or himself in ways that would give one every reason to believe that one can let one’s guard down. One can talk about personal finances or one can share a very deep personal pain or quite revealing hopes or quite revealing moments of despair. And so on.
For another thing, there is no such thing as revealing deeply personal information by accident. Revealing personal information is not at all the analogue to the spontaneous utterance of “ouch” when unexpectedly experiencing great pain. The utterance of “ouch” is a reaction. Revealing personal information cannot be construed as a reaction. This is something that one does intentionally and that one can only do intentionally.
Suppose that Smith tells me that he was sexually abused by his father. I am simply unable to fathom how it could remotely plausible for me to have reason to tell someone else about Smith. So it is even I am providing comfort to another person—say, Jones‑‑who has suffered the same misfortune. For whether Jones knows Smith or not, my offering comfort and support to Jones does not require telling Jones about Smith.
Suppose, now, that the circumstances of Jones and Smith are parallel and Smith has indeed flourished in spite of the abuse. Could this possibly excuse my telling Jones about Smith, because I want Jones to know that he, too, can overcome this? I think not. Certainly not without Smith’s permission.
What is more, there is no way to construe my telling Jones about Smith’s child sexual abuse as anything other than a deliberate and fully intentional betrayal of Smith’s trust. There is no spontaneous “ouch” counterpart to telling Jones about Smith.
These considerations bring us to why violating a deep trust is so very much worse than a racial epithet from someone known to be a bigot.
By definition, a bigot has given us reason to believe and expect that he will have untoward views about us. He certainly has given us no reason whatsoever to believe that truth and facts trump unwarranted racial attitudes.
By contrast, a dear friend has given us every reason to believe that the information that we share with him is sacred and that this sacredness is secured by the rich bond of affection that the person has for us. Needless to say, we do not expect a bigot (a KKK or Black Panther) person to have a bond of affection for us if we are of the right ethnic group (say, black in the first case or white in the second case).
Now, it is impossible to have a bond of affection for someone and do anything that comes remotely close to harming that person intentionally. Indeed, there is a very natural inclination to the contrary. Accordingly, revealing something utterly personal can only be construed as a form of intentional harm—intentional psychological harm, to be sure, but intentional harm nonetheless. For speaking is definitive of what counts as intentional behavior. What is more, it is an intentional harm which reveals that, contrary to one’s comportment around the person, one does not deeply care about the person. Thus, the harm is tied to a deception that one has perpetrated with respect to the person. And therein lies what is surely a most poignant difference between the bigot and the betrayal of a dear friend.
The bigot is bad. But we know in the first place not to put our trust in a bigot. A friend who betrays us, by contrast, has exploited the vulnerabilities that are part and parcel of being the object of another’s affection. The appearance of good has been the platform for the so-called friend doing harm to us. This scars us in a way that a racial epithet from a known bigot cannot possibly scar us.