Article Archive

Sunday, January 8, 1995

Intolerance is never the right answer

Awhile back, I was asked an intriguing question. And I’ve been rethinking my answer ever since. I had spoken to a youth group about careers in journalism and then answered a few questions from the kids—the usual ones, “Where do you get your ideas?” “Have you ever met Troy Aikman?”

I was about to sit down—and the kids were ready for me to—when one of the mothers in the group raised her hand for a final question: “What do you think is the greatest threat facing these young people in the future?”

Wow, what a fascinating, profound, challenging question! (I was in big trouble.)

My mind raced through some possibilities. Well, let’s see, “nuclear war” is always a good answer. But I guess that was really my generation’s greatest threat.

I thought about saying “the environment.” Nothing else matters if we go into global meltdown. And it’s a nice, safe answer. But I couldn’t honestly call that the greatest threat.

Finally, I blurted out this improbable reply “Intolerance.”

I’m still not exactly sure where that came from. But I told that mother and the kids that the only thing separating this society from the Middle East or Northern Ireland or Bosnia is our willingness to tolerate differences in each other.

Hostility Increasing

The only thing that stands between peace and war is our willingness to settle our differences with words instead of weapons.

And I told them that I see dwindling tolerance and a frightening increase in hostility between people of opposing views.

I’m sure those kids remember me only as that reporter who never met Troy Aikman. But I’ve been pondering my answer ever since. And here’s the weird part: I think I stand by it.

This all comes to mind again because of the latest killings at the abortion clinics—the latest example of someone who exchanged words for a weapon.

The plain truth is that there’s not much premium placed on tolerance these days.

Remember that noble quote we all learned in school: “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

I’m afraid the modern American version is: “I disapprove of what you say, so SHUT UP!!!”

I realize that some might say the biggest threat to our young people is too much tolerance— too much tolerance of violence and immorality, too much tolerance of poverty and inequity.

And there’s some truth to that.

But I still believe the greater threat, the thing that could cripple this society, is the seductive path of intolerance.

Not just wrong: evil

It says that people who disagree with us aren’t just wrong, they are evil. They aren’t just opponents, they are the enemy.

And don’t try to read any ideological slant here. I’m seeing this mindset across the political and social spectrum. That’s what makes it dangerous: It’s contagious.

We long for “traditional values.” And it does seem that tolerance is one of the forgotten parts of our national character.

It’s been a long time since I heard anyone shrug off an unpopular view with, “It takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round.”

It’s been a long time since I heard someone refuse to criticize with the adage, “Live and let live.”

I realize that our tolerance is now tested to new limits in this crazy quilt society. When I was growing up in East Texas, our idea of diversity was Baptist and Methodist.

And please understand that when I talk about tolerance, that’s not the same thing as approval—or even acceptance. And it doesn’t mean you have to sit by in silence. By all means, speak up. State your case. Join the debate.

That’s what democracy is all about. But it’s also about shaking hands and walking away with confidence that wisdom and right will prevail.

You often hear people talk about something being “the glue that holds us together.” They might be talking about patriotism or integrity or whatever.

But the truth is that we’re really not glued together in one big lump. We’re a nation of 260 million people and just that many different opinions.

And tolerance is the grease that lets us get along.

April 1995