“Intolerance of intolerance” is a derailment, not a moral paradox
How the famous paradox is deployed to waste our time
A PSA has been going around: in order to be tolerant, we have to be intolerant of intolerance. We are told that this is a moral paradox, and yet something seems amiss. If a fascist was removed from the Museum of Tolerance for handing out antisemitic flyers, his cries of “intolerance!” would sound hypocritical to many of us. The paradox might seem trivial in light of these conditions, so why should we look at it more closely? Here are some good reasons: debates over this paradox are quite common. It is currently in vogue for racist speech to defend itself with the ironic phrase “liberal tolerance.” After all, if liberals profess tolerance, isn’t it contradictory to refuse to tolerate their racist opinions? What if the entire debate was merely a derailment? In the spirit of Betteridge, is there really a contradiction?
This paradox comes from a footnote in Karl Popper’s The Open Society and its Enemies (chapter 7, note 4 to be specific). Here is an excerpt from the footnote, along with an infographic that went viral a couple years ago.
“..the paradox of tolerance: Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them… We should therefore claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant.”
At first glance, it appears that there is a paradox. Checkmate? Hardly.
Throughout history there have been different ways of practicing tolerance. For example, tolerance might involve a disposition to merely put up with differences. It could alternately indicate that one actively celebrates them. However, the question “What am I tolerant of?” is more relevant to this paradox. It is also where the discussion tends to go off the rails.
Popper is quite clear that he is referring to “unlimited tolerance.” This phrase is key: for something to be unlimited carries a certain weight, indicating that it has no boundaries whatsoever. A historical example of this distinction might be useful: Popper, with his studies of the Presocratic philosophers, surely knew about the apeiron (ἄπειρον). This was first described by Anaximander as the source of the cosmos, indefinite in both size and type of matter. Derived from the Greek word peras (πέρας) which means limit or boundary, apeiron translates as unlimited or boundless.
The paradox can easily be explained in this light: With no limits placed on tolerance, differentiating and counting the types of tolerance and the things to be tolerated requires an infinite amount of time. If one excludes anything from that infinite list, they are establishing a boundary. Most importantly, if you have to include absolutely everything on a list, then eventually, you’ll come around to including things that contradict it, too. Here are some examples: “Johnny has unlimited disobedience. He is disobedient of everything, including his own disobedience.” And, “Kate‘s skepticism has no limits. She is so skeptical that she is skeptical of her skepticism.” In other words, this is a trivial logical paradox that has far more in common with Russell’s famous paradox than with morals. It is also a completely unrealistic position to hold, as nobody can be tolerant of everything —for example, we cannot breathe carbon monoxide — and we cannot ascertain infinite types of tolerance.
Simply put, we are tolerant of specific things. We just omit what they are when using the word “tolerance.”
When we speak about tolerance, we are not talking about cilantro or socks in sandals. We focus on civil rights and freedoms, hence our concept of tolerance already has relevant boundaries or limits placed on it. Likewise, the word “tolerance” may occur by itself in the name “The Museum of Tolerance,” but that does not mean it is being employed in an unlimited sense. The use is contextual. We are expected to have enough common sense to know what the museum means when it employs the word “tolerance.” Antisemitism is not on that list.
We might also say “Wendy is such a tolerant person!” as a shorthand for indicating that she is tolerant of many cultural practices and holds many of them in esteem. She is, however, not tolerant of drawing and quartering or misogyny; she does not put up with either. As another example, policymakers who draft laws on tolerance will do so within relevant topical boundaries such as race or gender identity.
As soon as one talks about specifics, the supposed paradox disappears.
I am tolerant of particular things, and intolerant of other things. I am tolerant of racial differences. I am intolerant of racial superiority. This is no more of a contradiction than what Wendy finds herself in if she likes sweet red apples and dislikes tart green apples. She likes some kinds of apples and dislikes others. That is not a paradox.
When “tolerance” does not point to anything specific, not only do we end up with a trivial paradox, but we employ an error in categorization.
The ironic phrase “liberal tolerance” does not include what liberals are supposed to be tolerant of, or how they are supposed to practice tolerance. At first, the speaker using the phrase might be thinking “liberals are not tolerant of my opinion of LGBT folks.” The speaker then says “liberal tolerance” because (aside from conflating the left with liberals), they want their opinion to be tolerated. Since they omitted the latter point and used tolerance without qualification, a debate then ensues over tolerance in a very general, abstract, and unlimited sense of the word. However, unlimited tolerance is a false standard to be compared to, as no one can possess that much tolerance. It is also irrelevant, because we never employed tolerance in an unlimited sense. We specifically meant we were tolerant of different sexual orientations, or that we practiced racial tolerance. Switching the argument to unlimited tolerance derails the conversation and propagates the game, when the best way to win is not to play.
Perhaps this game comes about due to a grammatical sleight-of-hand. Here’s how it works: The phrase “the oracle of” by itself does not tell us which oracle is being spoken of, but the preposition indicates that it will tell us about a particular oracle, for example “the Oracle of Delphi.” In the same way, the phrase “intolerant of” also tells us that it will point to something specific, such as racial intolerance. Likewise, when a reader encounters the phrases “the color” or “the color of,” they expect to know what specific colors the writer meant, such as “the color red” or “the color of a clear, blue sky.” If we said “the color color” or “the color of color” this would seem nonsensical, because color by itself in this context does not point to anything specific enough to be useful. With our paradox about “tolerating intolerance,” or “we must be intolerant of intolerance”, a similar problem occurs. The phrase once again sets us up for something specific, like tolerating race or gender identity. However, the phrase merely points us right back to a vague, undifferentiated and boundless concept of intolerance, as vague as “the color color.” This confusion of a particular with an abstract, unlimited generality is a category error that leads to trivial paradoxes.
Why does this matter, anyway?
The terms “tolerance” and “intolerance” are often used in an unlimited sense to attack the legitimacy of a person who does not tolerate a speaker’s bigotry. It’s a form of baiting rather than debating; arguing over unlimited abstractions will not contradict people who believe that tolerance means tolerating their intolerance of someone else’s skin color or place of birth. Your opponent will easily twist this mundane paradox against you, as if to show that your ground is inconsistent. Perhaps one should leave this paradox in the dustbin and focus on battles that really matter instead.
Addendum: there are, to be sure, more interesting paradoxes of tolerance, if one wishes to read up on them. (They are substantially longer than a footnote, however).
