Unearned Guilt and the Mommy Wars

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Ah, the Mommy Wars. Breast vs Formula. Stay-at-home vs Career. Homeschooling vs Private vs Public Schools. Repeat C-Section vs VBAC. Natural Birth vs Epidurals. Positive Discipline vs Super-Nanny vs Spanking.

Those are just a very, very few of the main battles that are ongoing in the realm of Mommydom (and Daddydom--Dads are not completely immune, though it's mostly us Mommies).

I've written about these issues and the Mommy Wars that surround them in the past once or twice, but I've never specifically addressed what I see as a primary cause of the Mommy War Phenomenon itself. When a battle in the Mommy War breaks out, I see a couple of themes over and over again: "Don't Judge Me (or Anyone)" and "Stop Trying to Guilt Me into X."

Just so you know the kinds of things I'm talking about, here's an example of a couple comments on a post on Motherlode, the parenting blog of The New York Times (my emphasis):

. . . I think women need to be less judgmental of each other in this matter.

. . . I also want to add a note about what I came to think of as the “lactation mafia” — women who do their best to guilt other women into breast feeding, no matter how good a fit it is for the mom and the new baby.

These sorts of comments are very typical, and it took me less than a minute to locate them in the comment thread.

Here's the thing about the Mommy Wars:

I don't play.

And it's a game, not a war. It's a game of guilt and judging-while-pretending-not-to-judge and not taking into account the full context of one's (or another's) decisions and pragmatism and subjectivism. It's a game and I refuse to play.

Here's what Ayn Rand said about moral judgment (my emphasis):

The precept: “Judge not, that ye be not judged” . . . is an abdication of moral responsibility: it is a moral blank check one gives to others in exchange for a moral blank check one expects for oneself.

There is no escape from the fact that men have to make choices; so long as men have to make choices, there is no escape from moral values; so long as moral values are at stake, no moral neutrality is possible. To abstain from condemning a torturer, is to become an accessory to the torture and murder of his victims.

The moral principle to adopt in this issue, is: “Judge, and be prepared to be judged.”

The opposite of moral neutrality is not a blind, arbitrary, self-righteous condemnation of any idea, action or person that does not fit one’s mood, one’s memorized slogans or one’s snap judgment of the moment. Indiscriminate tolerance and indiscriminate condemnation are not two opposites: they are two variants of the same evasion. To declare that “everybody is white” or “everybody is black” or “everybody is neither white nor black, but gray,” is not a moral judgment, but an escape from the responsibility of moral judgment.

To judge means: to evaluate a given concrete by reference to an abstract principle or standard. It is not an easy task; it is not a task that can be performed automatically by one’s feelings, “instincts” or hunches. It is a task that requires the most precise, the most exacting, the most ruthlessly objective and rational process of thought. It is fairly easy to grasp abstract moral principles; it can be very difficult to apply them to a given situation, particularly when it involves the moral character of another person. When one pronounces moral judgment, whether in praise or in blame, one must be prepared to answer “Why?” and to prove one’s case—to oneself and to any rational inquirer.

Ayn Rand, “How Does One Lead a Rational Life in an Irrational Society?” The Virtue of Selfishness, 72.

So what does this mean? It means I have made moral choices regarding my parenting and myself according to the best of my judgment. Some of those decisions have been objectively less-than-ideal, but morally correct, given my personal situation.

A great example of this would be my three c-sections, particularly the third one. I know that c-sections are riskier for mom and baby, and less-than-ideal. In most situations, a vaginal birth is clearly the way to go. I support VBAC and natural birth and home births, if that's what a mom wants. I think the c-section rates are way too high, especially in Georgia. You can quote me the statistics about c-section rates and risks to mom and baby. I know them. I know enough to quote them back at you, probably. I do not support c-sections for either the mom's or doctor's "convenience" and will do my absolute best to talk someone out of that idea (believe me, there is nothing "convenient" about recovering from abdominal surgery while exhausted by caring for a newborn!).

You may judge me for choosing to have Sean via c-section. Of the three kids, he is the one I most likely could have delivered VBAC. I did not choose to even try. I had good reasons (selfish ones, even) to make this decision. But I'm not even going to try to explain them here. You may judge me, you may choose to think I was right or wrong about this. It's okay, and if you think I was wrong, I do understand your point of view.

Here's another thing:

I don't feel guilty.

I don't feel guilty because I made the correct decision, morally. I chose the objectively less-than-ideal for moral reasons and I did the right thing. If someone judges me, if someone shakes their finger at me and says "You did the wrong thing!" I can deal with that. I know what I chose and why. I have nothing to feel guilty about, and therefore the fact that someone might say "You made the wrong choice!" or lift their eyebrows when I mention the c-sections or advocate natural birth or say out loud that "Every woman should try to have such-and-such-type of birth because it's ideal." . . . none of those things has the power to make me feel guilty about my choice.

The only person who can make ME feel guilty about a moral decision I've made is ME. So I can accept that you disagree with my choice--and move on with my life. I can support your doing something differently, and even agree with you: "Yup, having a vaginal birth is best for everyone!" Because objectively, all other factors being equal, it is. I can't argue with that fact of reality.

If I know that I made a morally correct decision, and yet feel "pressure" from other moms who have made different decisions for their circumstances; yet feel that those other moms are trying to "make me feel guilty" somehow; yet feel threatened and defensive about their other choices; then I am accepting what Ayn Rand called unearned guilt (again, via the online Ayn Rand Lexicon and my emphasis):

The virtue of Pride can best be described by the term: “moral ambitiousness.” It means that one must earn the right to hold oneself as one’s own highest value by achieving one’s own moral perfection—which one achieves by never accepting any code of irrational virtues impossible to practice and by never failing to practice the virtues one knows to be rational—by never accepting an unearned guilt and never earning any, or, if one has earned it, never leaving it uncorrected—by never resigning oneself passively to any flaws in one’s character—by never placing any concern, wish, fear or mood of the moment above the reality of one’s own self-esteem. And, above all, it means one’s rejection of the role of a sacrificial animal, the rejection of any doctrine that preaches self-immolation as a moral virtue or duty.

Ayn Rand, “The Objectivist Ethics,” The Virtue of Selfishness, 27.

I have felt guilty about some of my parenting decisions--because I made wrong decisions. I didn't judge them as wrong because they differed from the decisions of others (that's second-handedness) but because they were objectively wrong. I don't confess my sins to others any longer (since leaving Catholicism), because I don't need others (real or imaginary) to forgive me, so you'll just have to wonder what those sins are. ;)

Here's an example of a time I accepted unearned guilt--when Ryan had his Big Peanut Kaboom. Practically the very first thing I read online about peanut allergies basically said that women who ate peanuts while pregnancy caused their kid's peanut allergies. Guess what I ate a lot of during Ryan's pregnancy? :( I felt horrible. I thought I had done this to my child. Even after I learned that this link was tenuous at best (and all but disproven now, to my knowledge), I continued to feel guilty and what-if myself. Finally, I realized that even if there was a direct causal link between what I ate during pregnancy and Ryan's terrible allergy, I shouldn't feel guilty about what I had done because it was an error of knowledge. I can't be morally responsible for doing something harmful when I had no idea that it might be harmful, and I really didn't. (I would be morally responsible for doing it when I knew it was harmful.) I was able to let the unearned guilt go after realizing that.

I don't feel unearned guilt because my friends gave birth vaginally. I am not defensive when they tell me about their birth experiences. I don't feel "pressure" or unfairly judged for my birth decisions. I love to hear their stories, and wonder what labor would have been like for me. My feelings are not hurt if they say "I think there are too many c-sections." or "C-sections are not as safe for mom and baby." My feelings are not hurt because those are factual statements.

And I can't feel guilty about my c-sections. I think c-sections are wonderful things and I'm so happy that I had a doctor who is really great at doing that surgery. Without them, my first baby might not have survived. And, too, my second baby was at a high risk. I made the morally correct decision for rationally selfish reasons to the absolute best of my knowledge. And therefore I am free of "pressure" from others who confidently declare their ideas of the best ways to give birth.

Conversely, I feel confident in stating out loud what I believe to be Best Parenting Practices: vaginal births, not spanking, attachment-style parenting when they're babies, keeping kids out of government schools, breastfeeding. I have reasons for thinking all of these things, and I think I'm right about them. I will be happy to talk to you about my reasoning, and am also willing to check my premises (because I might be wrong!).

But I am not stating these in an effort to make you feel pressured or guilty for doing something differently. Now, you may make different decisions from me, and be guilt-free about it, knowing that you have made perfectly moral decisions. If you feel guilty, maybe you are accepting unearned guilt, or maybe you made a wrong decision. Only you can really know that, and I don't need you to confess to me, either! But that guilty feeling comes from you, not me.

My point about the Mommy Wars is that it's fine to judge others and be judged by others, and to know that if you are making your decisions to the best of your knowledge, within your own rationally selfish context (if you truly need to work, then by all means, feed your baby formula sometimes!), then we Mommies should stop accepting unearned guilt and getting all defensive when other Mommies choose something else and confidently declare that they are proud for doing so. If you do feel rightly guilty (as I have) about something you have done, then figure out why, try to correct it and try not to make it again.

Also, it is possible to simultaneously judge someone else's actions as wrong and yet understand that you may not have all of the information about that person's context. So judge it as wrong, and if later evidence comes out that sheds a different light on that person's decision, change your mind about it. That's possible, too. And it's also possible to judge inside one's head, and not offer a loud opinion in social situations where such discussion is out-of bounds. (That's just good manners.)

If someone tries to make me feel pressured or guilty about c-sections--well, they can't. Because they don't have that power over me. Because I know that not every repeat c-section is the result of an immoral decision. Because I choose to say "Oh. Hmmm." and move on with my life. Because I can know that they don't understand (or maybe even want to understand) the particulars of my situation. And I can choose not to explain the particulars, too. I can find those sorts of people pushy and annoying, but they can't give me guilt.

So I urge you, the next time you feel pressured to participate in a Mommy War, consider dropping your end of the rope, walking away from the playground, just not playing. Don't feel guilty for your morally correct choices. And don't stop judging either.

The Accidental Controversy

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

I really don't know where to start in addressing some of the recent criticism that has recently sprung up concerning us bringing our kids to the Atlanta Tea Party. My husband, friend Kelly (mother of one of the kids who came along), Flibbert, and numerous others have already stated my case for me in the two discussions that have been ongoing. (Thanks, by the way!)

I really don't have anything to add to what they've said, so I will, instead, reiterate what they said and focus on one of the criticisms that bugged me the most: the notion that children have no business ever attending such rallies.

Brendan and I and our friends wanted to attend the rally last week because it was a way for us to act, to show our government that we are unhappy with the stimulus package. We wanted to encourage our governor to decline the stimulus money and to meet like-minded people. It never occurred to us for an instant not to bring the kids, because we bring them everywhere.

We live with our children in the world. That means we don't wrap them up in cotton wool (is that the phrase?), keeping them away from experiences just because they might not understand all of the implications. 'Cause, guess what? They don't understand most things the same way we do--they have young, immature brains and are not fully rational yet!

No, they don't understand the stimulus or exactly why we went to the protest. I don't think it matters though, because they learned lots of things by going with us. They learned:

• That Mom and Dad and their friends thought that telling the Governor we didn't like the stimulus was important enough to stand in the rain for.
• That when you don't like something that the government does, then you can go tell them that you don't like it.
• That LOTS of people agreed with Mom and Dad, and that some people talked into big microphones about it.
• That riding the train into Atlanta can be fun, but also kinda weird because strange people talk to you.
• That pigeons fly inside the train terminal.
• That we brought tea bags to this protest as a way to remember the real Boston Tea Party. (Ryan got this right away and in fact, it was his idea to wear his minuteman peopleguy hat.)
• That kids can do important grownup things like hold signs at protest rallies.
• That LOTS of people can gather together to disagree with something the government is doing and do it peaceably.
• That policeman peopleguys wear plastic on their hats in the rain.
• That Mom and Dad don't think it's fair for the government to take their money and give it to people we don't know.

Good lessons, don't you think?

We bring the kids all kinds of places where they don't understand the happenings fully: the bank, the food allergy walk, the doctor's office, the DMV. We took them with us to the lawyers when we created the cabin company and when we signed the papers when we bought the cabin. They have attended meetings with our financial planner peopleguy. They even participated in the wedding of our friends and I know for a fact that Ryan is still very unclear about what a wedding is for: he still wants to "marry" all of his army soldiers when he grows up! (Not that there's anything wrong with that . . . !)

No, they don't understand everything they hear--or even necessarily pay attention! But they learn something new everywhere we go--even if the level of their knowledge isn't at the same level as mine.

If I shouldn't bring the kids places until they can fully understand the all of the reasons for going, then I should probably just keep them home until they're 18 years old. In fact, why do I bring the baby anywhere? Because he for sure doesn't have a clue what's going on!

I do not want to keep my kids away from the world until they are grown. I want them to see things--and they want to see things, too--and learn from different experiences. Each of the older kids got a little something different out of going to the protest on Friday, but they each learned something. Incomplete knowledge is okay, as long as the knowledge they do get is grounded in reality. I have much incomplete knowledge--biology, for example--and that's okay, too,

And we didn't discuss this aspect of it too much, not to worry them (Ryan), but--they have a right and an interest in the stimulus rallies because their futures are being shackled by today's idiot politicians. Brendan and I want to stop that and one way in which we can do that is by attending such rallies. (We are fighting the fight in other ways, too.)

There are so many other aspects of the criticisms I could have addressed in this post, but as I mentioned before, I think Brendan, Kelly, and Flibbert and many others have done a great job of addressing those other issues, so go read what they have to say. I'm in agreement with all of it.

Oh, and Ryan asked me about Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged and this is what I told him: "There are some things going on in our country right now that I'm unhappy about, and a woman named Ayn Rand once wrote a story about something similar. I think that if more people read that book then it would help them think of good ideas to fix what's happening in our country."

I also explained our other signs--that we wanted our Governor, Sonny Perdue, to say NO to the money; that we wanted our government to take away those stimulus laws and let people be freer. I have to wonder if we'd have gotten so much flak from people if the kids had been carrying one of the other signs. Except for the one Morgan was holding, the kids chose their own signs to hold. Since we had plenty to share, we let them pick--it didn't matter who held which sign--it mattered that we were getting our ideas out there. Nobody would think that the children produced those signs or even agreed with the sentiments; they were there to help us do what WE thought was right.

There is an enormous difference between letting kids hold up an Ayn Rand sign and filling their heads with Objectivist words and making them repeat them like trained animals. The first action is letting kids help Mom & Dad with real live, important grownup work. Which they love to do because they are practicing being grownups. The second action is indoctrinating children and putting them on display. One action shows respect for children and their work (learning to be adults); one action treats them like trained seals.

I've been working on this post for a while now, so I'll stop here. I certainly didn't anticipate all of the controversy and find that I really am very tired of the whole thing. My purpose in posting this was to provide a little more context for those who may be interested; to thank those who have supported our actions in the past few days; and to let people know that I did stop and reexamine my premises very carefully. And to make it clear that we'll ALL be in attendance at the next rally.

Kids should be allowed in the world because they live in the world.

On Lying

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

So anyway, Ryan has been going through a bit of a lying phase. It started a couple of months ago, and seems to be diminishing, thankfully.

All kids will stretch the truth from time to time, of course. But there was a difference in this latest round of Truth Experimentation which is somewhat difficult for me to describe. When Ryan was younger, and I've seen this with Morgan and some of their friends who are younger, the "lying" isn't really premeditated--they lie in the moment, often when asked a stupid or obvious question by an adult. An example:

"Did you pick up your toys?" Mom asks, looking at toy-filled room (And yes, I'm guilty of such dumb questions! I'm a very tired Mommy.)

Child thinks, What does mom want to hear? and comes out with, "Yes!"

Okay, that's a lie, yes. But Ryan's finally progressed to the premeditated lying stage. With malice aforethought. Well, maybe not always malice, but frequently forethought.

This is an entirely different degree of lying and when we discovered it, we were extremely disappointed and upset. Yet the lying continued, until we came up with two strategies that seem to get through to him. I'm not saying that he'll never lie again, but I've definitely noticed an improvement in the last month or two since we've been applying these strategies.

What I do when I discover a lie is to say something like, "Well, this is what I saw with my eyes [insert description]." or "I am using my eyes and my ears and my mind and I can decide what's true for myself--and what you are saying is not true."

I like this strategy because it reinforces lots of good philosophy.

Good Metaphysics: It demonstrates that reality is real and objective--saying that A is B does not make it so. I make a point of showing that I know that A is A.

Good Epistemology: This strategy models good epistemology--I am showing that I rely on my senses as well as my mind to know about reality. Which is great when I can catch the lie as it's happening, but I also explain it to him when I draw an inference about the truth, which is what I did the day after he wrote the word ASS on the wall. He tried to blame his friends (but only half-heartedly, as he suspected we already knew the truth). I told him that while I didn't see who wrote the word on the wall, I could tell he was the culprit because A) one of his friends hadn't been over that day, and B) the friend who had been over can't write. I think Ryan appreciated the logic of my case. :o)

The second strategy we have used to curtail the lying is grounded in Ethics. We have discussed the damage to relationships that lying can cause, that he should be self-interested in the truth, both as a way to be just and loving to his family and friends and as a way to be just to himself. But I think the most powerful ethical argument has been reminding him of the times when he has told the truth and what happened then. He remembers his feeling of pride and also the fact that we didn't get angry with him, but rather, we helped him handle the problem. He has also remarked that he feels sad and mad with himself when he has lied--which is a proper feeling, so I think that's a good thing. As he gets more experience with the good feelings of being truthful (even when it's hard) and the bad ones of deception, I think it will be easier for him to make the right decision. (Again, not that he won't ever make bad decisions.)

We've also discussed the role of context in truth-telling, and he is very hyper-aware that it's okay to lie to Bad Guys. :o) In fact, he asked me about this a few nights ago, remarking something to the effect that it would be wrong to tell the truth to a Bad Guy who asked you where you kept your money, since he'd just want to steal it. Yes!

So those are some of my thoughts on the lying issue--I'm sure we'll have to come up with different tactics for different kids, or possibly different developmental phases. Thoughts? Any other things I should be mindful of?