Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
DOI 10.1007/s10790-014-9470-9
Chike Jeffers
C. Jeffers (&)
Dalhousie University, Halifax, NS, Canada
e-mail: chike.jeffers@dal.ca
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206 C. Jeffers
perspective, I believe that considering matters from this non-standard angle (i.e.,
from the perspective of those resisting against racism) will usefully broaden the
debate while also still leading toward conclusions regarding the justice of state
policy.
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 207
does not seem to me to be a problem for someone to keep and promote such a
custom. There is also the problem that, on some accounts of rationality, all faith-
based cultural practices are irrational and it is certainly not my intention to suggest
that all religious customs should be given up. With all that having been said, it
remains the case that one reason to avoid an unqualified commitment to preserving
your culture is the fact that such a commitment can lead to the preservation of
practices that are irrational in such a way that it is, if not impermissible, at least
inadvisable to engage in the practices in question.
The first thing we can say about the ethics of cultural preservation, then, is that
there are many circumstances in which the fact that something counts as part of a
cultural tradition is insufficient to justify doing it. If the goal of cultural preservation
is ever a justifiable motivation to do something, this goal can come into play as a
viable reason for action only on the prior condition that the action is not immoral,
imprudent, or otherwise to be avoided. I need to distinguish this point, however,
from arguments that some philosophers have made suggesting that the fact that
something is part of your culture can never serve as a reason to do it. According to
these arguments, even when the morality, prudence, or rationality of what you’re
contemplating doing is not at issue, to appeal to the fact that it is part of your culture
in order to provide a reason for doing it is redundant, confused, and even
disrespectful of the culture. If we accept these arguments, the very idea of cultural
preservation as a conscious aim and practice begins to seem nonsensical. Let us
therefore consider their force.
Jeremy Waldron has pointed out that participating in a cultural way of life – for
example, by marrying or dancing or worshipping in the ways that people in one’s
community tend to do – normally does not involve calling attention to the fact that
one is thereby following a cultural tradition. This is, he believes, as it should be.
According to Waldron, to advertise or announce the fact that what one is doing is
participating in a particular form of life is, in fact, to participate in ‘‘another form of
life – a different form of life… only problematically related to the first.’’1 His point
is that social norms are grounded, first and foremost, in patterns of reasoning
directly linked to the kinds of norms they are. For instance, if we ask an elder in the
group to which we belong why we practice something like monogamy, we are likely
to get a story about what makes monogamy an appropriate approach to marriage and
family. Waldron argues that the flaunting of cultural participation for its own sake
involved in modern identity politics is not only abnormal but problematic because,
as he sees it, we no longer truly respect a norm once we treat its mere existence
within a culture as its justification: ‘‘rather I show a vain and self-preoccupied
contempt for the norm itself – by gutting it of its reasons, and replacing them… with
my own need to keep faith with my own cultural roots.’’2 Waldron views the
difference between caring most about the reasons internal to a norm and treating its
existence within a culture as justification in itself as the difference between
1
Jeremy Waldron, ‘‘What is Cosmopolitan?’’ The Journal of Political Philosophy 8 (June 2000): 234.
2
Ibid., p. 235.
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208 C. Jeffers
3
Ibid., p. 236.
4
Samuel Scheffler, ‘‘Immigration and the Significance of Culture,’’ Philosophy & Public Affairs 35
(Spring 2007): 119.
5
Ibid.
6
Ibid., p. 120.
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 209
among one’s people redundant. But this is just wrong, as there need not be any other
reason. If we say, for instance, that the reason that it is popular among one’s people
is that it tastes great and that that, then, is the sensible reason for choosing to cook it,
we should remember that, given the level of subjectivity involved in the enjoyment
of food, it is possible for something widely perceived as tasty by most members of
one’s cultural group to be nevertheless somewhat bland or otherwise less than ideal
from one’s personal perspective. In such instances, I see nothing strange about the
dominant reason for enjoying the process of cooking and eating this dish being the
pleasure one derives from the way it symbolizes membership in one’s cultural
group, a sense of pleasure that may naturally result from the pleasure one takes in
being part of this group.
One might wonder whether Waldron and Scheffler’s concerns are perhaps more
appropriate in relation to weightier choices than what to eat for dinner, but I believe
my objection can be reworked for any situation in which we are making a choice
between options that appear to us to be either roughly equal or at least not wildly
disparate in value while setting aside the question of their connection to a culture.
One’s choice of career is hugely important, for example, and there are a number of
ethical considerations that can help narrow the field. If it comes down to becoming a
teacher or a lawyer, though, and one feels as if one possesses the aptitude to do
either, then if it also happens to be the case that the teaching profession is especially
highly valued in one’s culture, there is nothing weird or inappropriate about this
turning out to be the deciding factor in one’s deliberation about which path to
pursue.
At least part of what has gone wrong in Waldron and Scheffler’s thinking, I
believe, is that what they treat as normal reasoning about what to do and why ends
up making the paradigmatic reasoner someone more or less oblivious to the
existence or extent of cultural diversity in the world. It is true that being conscious
of and calling attention to the fact that one is participating in the traditions of a
particular culture while participating in them is odd in circumstances in which
people generally do not give any thought to the possibility that there are other ways
of doing things. It does not, however, require living in a culturally diverse country
like Canada or being familiar with ‘‘modern cultural identity politics’’ or ‘‘the
discourse of multiculturalism’’ for someone to be aware of having ended up, through
the happenstance of birth and life path, with this rather than that set of cultural
influences.7 Some basic awareness that there are groups to which one does not
belong that do things differently is, I would venture to say, the condition in which
most human beings have lived. To the extent that this is so, this means that most
human beings have had the capacity, if not the inclination, to imagine what it would
be like for them to live as those from another culture live. Even where the
possibility of taking up a different way of life has seemed remote, this capacity to
imagine doing so is all that is required for someone to experience the desire to
abandon his or her culture or some of its ways. It is also, however, all that is
necessary to experience the disinclination to leave behind the familiarity of one’s
culture and, while this sense of attachment can be linked to beliefs about the
7
See Waldron, op. cit., p. 234, and Scheffler, op. cit., p. 121.
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210 C. Jeffers
universally appreciable value of the culture’s norms, it can also be simply a matter
of liking that which is familiar or that which one takes to be symbolic of who one is
as a person shaped by a certain culture. We have established that such feelings
cannot justify sticking with how things have been done in one’s cultural context in
all cases but, in cases where a custom is permissible because it is not ruled out by
the demands of morality, prudence, or rationality, nothing Waldron and Scheffler
say show it to be unreasonable to adhere to the practice mainly because one wishes
to adhere to and to perpetuate one’s culture as a whole.
Against Waldron and Scheffler, then, I would defend cultural preservation as a
perfectly reasonable motivation and a sufficient justification for action whenever it
is kept within its proper ethical limits. Note that what I have said so far, though, tells
us only that when people choose to preserve their culture, there is nothing
unavoidably wrong or nonsensical in this choice. It can be permissible. Could it be,
though, that there is also something praiseworthy in this choice? Is it perhaps a
motivation that everyone should have? I do indeed think there is something
praiseworthy to be found in cultural preservation within its ethical limits, although I
would not go so far as to identify it as a general obligation to which all people must
feel bound. I will consider circumstances in which I do think there is an argument to
be made for an obligation to cultural preservation in the section of this paper on
politics, but I think the obligation there is derived from circumstances that we
should be striving to transcend. Consequently, I do not see cultural preservation as
something that everyone everywhere should always feel obligated to pursue. Let us
consider, though, why it might be praiseworthy.
We may look first at the attitude toward one’s community and one’s ancestors
involved in the conscious decision to continue identifying with a culture and to
encourage the perpetuation of some of its historical practices. I believe we can see
certain virtuous forms of humility and gratitude expressed in this choice. It is one
way of humbly acknowledging, first of all, that one cannot flourish as an isolated
individual independent of others but rather that one needs to be part of a community
(here and elsewhere, for the sake of simplicity, I will speak of a single community,
but it is important to note that one can certainly identify with multiple cultural
groups and thus be part of an overlapping set of communities). Dedication to the
preservation of community through the preservation of culture demonstrates
recognition of and gratitude for the meaning-providing, direction-giving, and life-
enriching value of cultural community. Another way in which we may see humility
and gratitude in the effort to preserve one’s culture is by seeing it as an
acknowledgment not only of the wisdom and value in the ways of one’s people but
also of the fact that it is the existence of this particular people that has made one’s
own existence and thus one’s ability to enjoy life possible. Deferring to the wisdom
and cherishing the value in the ways of one’s ancestors can therefore be a means of
honouring them, preserving their memory, and taking hold of the legacy they left for
those coming after them. Complete deference to one’s community and one’s
ancestors is, as we have repeatedly noted, unacceptable, but critically thinking about
what is of value and what is not in one’s culture is not the opposite of cultural
preservation. It is, on the contrary, the condition that ensures that cultural
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 211
8
Charles Taylor, ‘‘The Politics of Recognition,’’ in Amy Gutmann (ed.), Multiculturalism: Examining
the Politics of Recognition (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994), 25–73, pp. 72 and 66.
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212 C. Jeffers
ideal.9 In my view, though, the way the inward-looking goal of preservation and the
outward-looking goal of interaction pull against one another is best seen not as an
irresolvable contradiction but rather as a productive tension. To be overly invested
in the cosmopolitan ideal of mixing traditions is to ignore the value of fostering
cultural continuity even as one benefits as a cosmopolitan from the ways in which
others have kept valuable cultural traditions alive. Likewise, to be overly invested in
cultural preservation is to forget that one of the main ways that cultures survive and
thrive is through incorporating what is beneficial from elsewhere.
Keeping this in mind, here is what I think we can say in summary about the ethics
of cultural preservation: in any instance in which one has a choice to make about
what to do and one is considering choosing to follow a cultural tradition, one must
think first about whether this tradition is harmful, reckless, culpably irrational, or in
some other way wrong or inadvisable. If so, one must not do it. If not, there is
absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to follow tradition, whether one is
motivated primarily by what precisely is of value in this particular tradition or above
all by the bare fact that it happens to be part of one’s culture. Furthermore, we have
reason to see the conscious choice to follow tradition because it is tradition as an
admirable one. All this we may say about the choice made in one instance. When we
turn to think, however, about the series of choices one makes over the course of a
lifetime, we cannot see it as admirable to decide always in favour of cultural
preservation. One must strive instead to balance the value of adherence to one’s
culture with the value of being open to learning from other cultures. In the language
of Kant’s moral theory, we may say that we have an imperfect duty to be curious, to
be open-minded, to be welcoming with regard to the possible influence upon us of
other ways of life, other habits and customs and methods of constructing a
meaningful life and world.
9
Kwame Anthony Appiah, Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers (New York: W.W. Norton
& Company, 2006), p. 111.
10
See, especially, Will Kymlicka, Multicultural Citizenship: A Liberal Theory of Minority Rights
(Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1995).
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 213
11
See Kymlicka, Politics in the Vernacular: Nationalism, Multiculturalism and Citizenship (New York:
Oxford University Press, 2001), pp. 178–185.
12
Michael Murphy, Multiculturalism: A Critical Introduction (London: Routledge, 2012), p. 66.
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214 C. Jeffers
that also clearly count as historically oppressed groups and, even more specifically,
those who have been victimized in the modern era by racism and European
colonialism. This shift in focus is not random or based solely on my contingent
interests, for I believe considering the situation of such peoples is not only
interesting in itself but is also very helpful in leading us toward deeper insights into
the nature and value of cultural preservation and the proper function of
multiculturalism.
As a way of understanding the reorientation I am proposing, consider two
members of cultural minority groups. The first is a white Frenchwoman who has
immigrated to New Zealand. Kymlicka’s theory tells us that New Zealand ought to
structure public policy in such a way that this French immigrant feels welcome and
is supported in the goal of preserving aspects of her French culture, even as she
integrates into New Zealand’s societal culture. Given that I want to talk about what
members of cultural groups should want and strive for, though, the question I wish
to ask about this immigrant is: what if it turns out to be the case that she actually
feels no need whatsoever to preserve French culture and she would not feel injured
in any way if New Zealand had a very assimilationist approach to integrating
immigrants? If so, is there anything wrong with this? To be clear, we are not talking
about someone who is vocally opposed to official declarations that the country is
multicultural and that immigrants should feel encouraged to bring their unique
contribution to the country’s cultural mix (New Zealand, by the way, lacks explicit
legislation declaring a commitment to multiculturalism of the kind found in Canada
and Australia, but a number of its laws and policies regarding such things as
education and media representation can be viewed as multiculturalist).13 This
particular immigrant is merely apathetic – she is not opposed to the celebration and
promotion of different cultures but would be just as comfortable if immigrants were
generally expected to try to live as much like a traditional white New Zealander as
possible. Indeed, for her, the process of shedding her old culture and becoming
immersed in this new one is an enjoyable, even exhilarating experience.
Now, despite having not yet answered the question raised above, let me introduce
the second member of a cultural minority group, an indigenous woman living in
Winnipeg. Let us say that, like the French immigrant to New Zealand, this woman
feels no particular need to remain connected with her cultural heritage – Ojibway, in
her case. Let us further say that she would feel no sense of injury if Canada were
revive its older commitment to cultural assimilation as a policy regarding
indigenous peoples, although certainly only on the assumption that this time there
would be no violations of rights and abuses of the kinds associated with residential
schools.14 Again, we may stipulate that this woman is not opposed to indigenous
peoples being assured the kinds of self-government rights for which Kymlicka
advocates. She is simply apathetic about whether they exist or not in terms of how
13
See Multiculturalism Policy Index, ‘‘Immigrant Minorities: Evidence: New Zealand,’’ \http://www.
queensu.ca/mcp/immigrant/evidence/NewZealand.html[. Accessed July 15, 2014.
14
On this topic, see, for example, J.R. Miller, Shingwauk’s Vision: A History of Native Residential
Schools (Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 1996).
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 215
she understands her own well-being. She is much more invested in being
indistinguishable culturally from her white Canadian friends.
In both of these cases, the French New Zealander and the Ojibway Winnipegger,
the question of whether it is right or wrong to grant minority cultures special rights
is not at issue. We are talking here only about the attitude of apathy regarding
cultural policy that may naturally arise for someone personally invested in being
culturally assimilated. Superficially, then, the cases, given their parallels, ought to
be viewed as more or less the same. They strike me, however, as different. While I
do not relate to the complete lack of interest that the French New Zealander has in
perpetuating French culture, her apathy about staying connected to her roots does
not strike me as very worrisome from a moral and political point of view. The
attitudes toward indigenous culture and assimilationist policy held by the Ojibway
Winnipegger, on the other hand, do strike me as worrisome, even in spite of the fact
that, as a non-indigenous person, I am not reacting to what could be seen as a
member of my own group rejecting our heritage.
So why this difference? Is this disparity in my reactions unfair? Let me admit that
this could very well be the case. That being said, I believe the disparity is not hard to
explain. A major reason that the cases seem relevantly different to me is that there
seems to be much greater reason to worry in the case of the indigenous Canadian
than in the case of the white person from France that this total lack of investment in
cultural tradition and complete readiness to assimilate as much as possible into the
culture of the white majority may be connected to the power of long-circulating
invidious beliefs concerning which cultures are superior and which are inferior. To
be clear, I am not saying that we can simply assume that the Ojibway Winnipegger’s
preference for the dominant culture means that she believes that white cultures are
superior and that indigenous cultures of the Americas are inferior. If making such an
assumption would be unreasonable, however, worrying about the possibility that
this is the case is decidedly not unreasonable. Such a worry is, on the contrary,
realistic given the history of racism in Canadian culture and the psychological
effects that we know that racism can have on those who are targeted by it.15
When we look past the Ojibway Winnipegger’s lack of interest in her ancestors’
culture to the fact that she would not be uncomfortable with a revival of
assimilationist policies on the part of the Canadian government, I think it becomes
even harder to reject as unreasonable the worry that something is wrong here. The
struggles by indigenous peoples in Canada and throughout the Americas to keep
their cultures alive in the face of European dominance count as hugely significant
cases of resistance to oppression, indeed, as efforts that should inspire and galvanize
us all in opposition to the legacy of colonialism, and yet we have said that this
person would not be bothered by a concerted effort on the part of the state to negate
and completely reverse the gains of these struggles. One can reasonably worry that
this reveals a lack of appropriate concern for the people to which this person is
attached, even if only by the ties of family and ancestry.
15
On internalized racism among indigenous people in North America, see John Gonzalez, Estelle
Simard, Twyla Baker-Demaray, and Chase Iron Eyes, ‘‘The Internalized Oppression of North American
Indigenous Peoples,’’ in E.J.R. David (ed.), Internalized Oppression: The Psychology of Marginalized
Groups (New York: Springer, 2014), pp. 31–56.
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216 C. Jeffers
It might be noted that another important difference between the two cases not yet
mentioned is that an assimilationist policy in New Zealand does nothing to affect
the continued vibrancy of French culture in France whereas an assimilationist policy
in Canada has the potential to result in the complete eradication of a culture
indigenous to this land.16 I agree that this is an important difference and I take this
variation in the severity of the possible consequences of assimilationist policies to
be helpful in exposing the superficiality of the similarity between the cases. I would
not want it to be inferred, though, that all that is at stake here is the difference
between one’s culture being likely to live on in another country and one’s culture
being likely to go out of existence if not sustained in this particular place. Consider
a third case: a Haitian immigrant to France dedicated to jettisoning all that is Haitian
in her ways and habits so as to become as plainly French as possible. Here, despite
the fact that Haitian culture will live on in Haiti, I think it is not unreasonable to
worry, as in the case of the Ojibway Winnipegger, about how the racial dynamics of
the situation and the history of colonialism behind those dynamics might possibly be
involved in shaping this person’s concerns and desires.
The general point, then, is that it is reasonable to think the issue of cultural
preservation attains a special level of importance and an urgency it may not have
elsewhere in the context of the history of racism and colonialism. This is because
racism and colonialism in the modern world centrally involve the construction of
the system of white supremacy and an essential component of that ideological,
discursive, and institutional reality is the devaluation of the cultures of non-white
peoples, concomitant with the elevation of that which is associated with being white
as culturally superior. This historical reality gives all people of good will reason to
be concerned with how the cultures of non-white peoples are treated and
represented, especially in racially diverse but majority white societies. While
everybody ought to feel obligated to fight racism, though, those who are targeted by
racism have special reason on the grounds of self-respect to resist against it.17 The
question then becomes: what is required of non-white people who dedicate
themselves to resisting against white supremacy, particularly in relation to the
thereby encompassed duty of resisting against the cultural dimension of this system
of oppression?
Here is where I wish to argue that, faced with the task of resistance against
racism, some involvement in or at least support for achieving the goal of cultural
preservation begins to exceed the realm of the merely praiseworthy and extend into
the realm of obligation. If I am right, Waldron and Scheffler’s approaches to
thinking about culture obscure not only the coherence of treating the cultural status
of something as a reason for doing it but also the necessity of doing so in certain
circumstances. A number of things have to be clarified, however, in order for me to
make this point in a responsible, plausible manner.
16
I thank Thomas Hurka for raising this point to me.
17
On self-respect as a reason to resist oppression, see Bernard Boxill, Blacks and Social Justice, revised
ed. (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1992), pp. 186–204, and Carol Hay, Kantianism, Liberalism,
and Feminism: Resisting Oppression (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), pp. 117–157.
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The Ethics and Politics of Cultural Preservation 217
I need to clarify, first of all, that I am not saying that members of oppressed
cultural groups have a duty to resist against racism by striving to keep their culture
exactly the same as it is or as it allegedly was at some point in the past. That would
mean taking on an unqualified commitment to cultural preservation and, as we
firmly established in the previous section, such a commitment is unethical. The
pursuit of cultural preservation as a means of resistance must therefore incorporate
the kind of openness to change that is necessary to ensure that regrettable customs
can be discarded and also the kind of openness to change necessary for ensuring that
learning from other cultures is possible (although note that, now that we are thinking
politically, we must be careful to distinguish these two kinds of cultural change
from the kind that is undergone primarily as a result of pressure from dominant
external forces).
Secondly, it must be clear not only that we should avoid constraining our cultures
to fit a single unchanging image but also that individual members ought to feel as
unconstrained as possible in constructing their personalized versions of the cultural
identity they share with others. This point is crucially important, as it is certain that
one of the strongest reasons for resisting the conclusion I wish to draw about how to
resist is that it may seem to imply the need to constantly engage in the wholly
unproductive practice of policing the habits and inclinations of individuals in order
to measure their cultural authenticity. Tommie Shelby has strongly rejected and
criticized the idea of holding onto a cultural basis for solidarity among black people
in the United States for this very reason, among others.18
And yet, when I suggest that we who are black need to defend the value of black
cultural difference in the face of assumptions and intimations of white cultural
superiority, I am not saying that we need to draw clear lines around what counts and
what does not count as black culture and then criticize each other when we fail to
heed the boundaries. Black people are, of course, wonderfully diverse and the model
of cultural resistance I wish to promote affirms rather than denies that. Consider, for
example, two cousins who have grown up in Toronto but who were born in Jamaica
and spent early parts of their lives there. Both of them conceive of themselves as
very proud of their cultural background as people of African descent. One cousin,
however, lost his Jamaican accent early and takes no great interest in speaking in
dialect. For the other, by contrast, the ability to ‘‘chat patois,’’ as he would describe
it, is central to his identity and to his sense of his particularly Caribbean version of
blackness. For the cousin who does not speak patois, on the other hand, central to
his sense of his blackness is his membership and participation in a black church.
From the music to some themes in his pastor’s messages to the simple value of
congregating and communing with other black people, this is, for him, the
quintessence of black culture. His cousin, the one that speaks patois, has no
comparable gathering of community members that he enjoys on a weekly basis,
given that he is nonreligious.
In a situation like this, we have two individuals who access black culture in
different ways and who are, in fact, disinclined if not completely unable to access
18
See Tommie Shelby, We Who Are Dark: The Philosophical Foundations of Black Solidarity
(Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2005).
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218 C. Jeffers
the culture in the same ways as each other. If commitments to cultural preservation
had to be premised on the homogeneity of a culture and the existence of a single
pattern of cultural engagement that all must follow in order to be authentic, these
two would be likely to butt heads and to accuse each other of failing to truly adhere
to the culture. This, however, is unnecessary. Understanding that the point is to
celebrate black cultural life in general rather than prescribe its limits and its essence,
these two individuals can recognize each other as equally committed to the goal of
cultural preservation in spite of their different senses of what is central to being
black.
Having now clarified that cultural preservation should be practiced in a way that
recognizes and accepts both the necessary dynamism of culture and the normality of
internal diversity, my position is that non-white people dedicated to resisting racism
should feel a duty to help preserve the cultural distinctness of the peoples to whom
they recognize themselves as belonging. This is because they should recognize that
part of how racism operates is the Eurocentric privileging of that which is associated
with whiteness and the deprecation of that which is marked as non-white. To
counter a possible objection, it is certainly true that racism also involves the
exoticizing appreciation of non-white cultures while the people themselves are
treated unequally and it also involves the problematic usage or misusage of symbols
of non-white cultures, but to speak of exoticization, appropriation, and other such
forms of wrongdoing is to admit that the problem is that non-white cultures are
insufficiently respected. My argument is that, in response to this lack of respect, the
value of non-white cultures should be regularly and insistently reaffirmed and
celebrated. How this is done admits of endless variation: one person may don
traditional clothing while others pass down folktales to their children, and for
someone else, it will not be folktales but rather appreciation for knowledge of the
actual history of the people that she strives to cultivate most among the young. We
should expect and, in fact, desire lack of uniformity among those engaged in
politically motivated cultural preservation. Such lack of uniformity is not a
weakness but rather a strength, for affirming the internal diversity of the cultures in
question helps demonstrate their flexibility and thus their ample capacity to shape
and foster flourishing modern lives.
Given all this flexibility, what would count as failing to do one’s duty on this
account and what would the appropriate response to such failure be? Non-white
people who are broadly dismissive of the culture of their ancestors and fellow group
members – rather than carefully critical of it in a manner conducive to improving it
– would count as clearly failing, in my view, to challenge the cultural dimension of
racism. Respectful criticism of this failing and constructive encouragement of the
anti-Eurocentric alternative would be appropriate in response. Reasoned explanation
and encouragement would also be appropriate in response to those who are not
dismissive of non-white cultures but who do not yet see the need to support the
project of cultural preservation. Given the risk of seeming to impose too much on
the freedom of people to structure their lives and choose their priorities as they wish,
individual failures with regard to this duty should not provoke very harsh
judgments. More vigorous criticism may be appropriate, however, when organiza-
tions that claim to represent the interests of one’s racial or ethnic group appear
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220 C. Jeffers
Acknowledgments This paper was presented at the University of Manitoba as part of a series co-
sponsored by the Department of Philosophy and the Centre for Professional and Applied Ethics and at the
University of Toronto, where it was sponsored by the Minorities and Philosophy (MAP) initiative. I
would like to thank my audiences at both universities for their helpful feedback. I would also like to thank
Liam Kofi Bright for his comments on a draft.
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