On Being a Moderate So-Called

Today at lunch, one of my grad buddies tried to come up with a brief description of my theological posture for the benefit of one of his friends. And so it happened, for the first time ever I think, that I was described as a "moderate." My buddy apparently meant it as a complement. By it he intended something like: "This guy is not a mindless follower. He thinks for himself, and what he thinks is interesting."

I appreciated his sentiment. I certainly would like to think of myself as one who thinks and is capable of thinking. On the other hand--as you have probably guessed by this point--I am not too big a fan of his choice of words. For some time now the idea of a "moderate" has been a pet peeve of mine. Or, to be more precise: it upsets me that to some, the label "moderate" seems to be that without which one is incapable of entering into an honest intellectual discussion. This elevation of the "moderate" amounts to saying that one cannot identify oneself or be identified as, for example, "conservative" or "liberal," and hope to be taken seriously by another intelligent person.

Perhaps this sentiment--I refer to the elevation of the "moderate"--is an indication of the lasting effect of the Nicomachean Ethics on our culture. That virtue lies on a mean between two extremes has virtually been written on the heart of any good Westerner. It is unfortunate that not quite as many recall Aristotle's corrolary to this dictum: it usually happens that the mean lies somewhat closer to one of the extremes than the other. (Cf. 1109a 1-19 [pp. 962-63 in the McKeon edition].) I cite the text here because of its critical importance and because it appears that it has been all but totally neglected these days. Courage really does look a lot more like recklessness than cowardice, which means that the virtuous one runs a greater risk of upsetting the cowards than the reckless folk. But this isn't a bad thing, since the courageous person isn't measured by the reckless or the cowardly. Quite the contrary: she herself is the measure of the cowardly and the reckless.

"Moderate" takes the Aristotelian idea of virtue and cleanses it of all content, until what remains is stark naked, totally empty, and utterly droll. The word means absolutely nothing, and so to call someone a moderate is to say nothing at all. I can think of only one advantage to the descriptor: it tells someone that my stance cannot be summarized in a few words, that if one wishes to know what I think, one will surely have to consult the horse's mouth. One would have to do me the outstanding courtesy of actually asking me what I think! This usage of a term like "moderate" can be justified only in a culture whose default stance is to deny me precisely that courtesy, to deny me my "day in court." Just because I am a "liberal" or a "conservative." What rubbish.

The way I see it, if some people call me conservative, and others call me liberal, then perhaps it means I'm doing something right. But moderate? What should I think of that?

Maybe I need to try to tick more people off.