On Collin Morikawa and Microaggressions

Last weekend, 23-year-old Collin Morikawa became third-youngest player to win the PGA Championship. Only three other people have won the Championship–one of four “major” PGA Tour events–before turning 24, and their names are known even outside of the world of golf: Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods, and Rory McIlroy. Morikawa was in contention all weekend, and after a virtually flawless round on Sunday he finished the tournament at -13, two strokes ahead of the runners-up.

Watching the final round last Sunday was delightful. Multiple times throughout the day, the lead was shared by as many as six people. It was as competitive a final round of a major as I have ever seen. The tournament was especially fun to watch because the leaders were a mix of familiar tour veterans and younger players who will no doubt be the stars of tomorrow.

There were two blights on the broadcast. The first was when, in reference to how calm Morikawa appeared, the announcers referred to him as a “silent assassin.” It was a strange thing to say, and I wondered if the announcers would have used the same phrasing if Morikawa wasn’t Asian American. Later in the broadcast, also in reference to how calm Morikawa was, the announcers referred to him as a “flat-liner.” My father remarked that they may as well have called him “inscrutable.”

I found the comments jarring for two reasons. First, they’re just inaccurate. Watch Morikawa’s highlights from last weekend and it will become clear that this is a guy who is focused, but is having fun out there. He’s not emotionless on the course; when things go well, he acknowledges cheers, pumps his fist, breathes sighs of relief, and smiles. Second, there were other, better ways of describing how calm under pressure Morikawa seemed. When discussing how calm other players were, the announcers said–get this–that the players seemed calm. It was only in describing Morikawa that they used descriptors that brought to mind the stereotype of the “inscrutable” Asian man.

To be sure, the announcers’ comments did not seem to be motivated by any racial animus. In sports, being unflappable in the face of pressure is a good thing. This is especially true in golf, where an error of just a fraction of an inch in a swing can wreck an entire round. Insensitive as the announcer’s descriptions of Morikawa’s calmness may have been, they were almost certainly intended as compliments. The comments, then, were classic microaggressions: statements that subtly and often unintentionally communicate prejudice toward a member of a marginalized group.

I believe we should all strive to avoid being offensive when we speak. When others tell us that we’ve offended them–even unintentionally–we should take them seriously and strongly consider avoiding saying similar things in the future. However, I’m skeptical of the concept of microaggressions for a couple of reasons. The first is a rhetorical quibble. I don’t like the idea of referring to subtle, unintentional behavior as aggressive. What makes an action aggressive is that it is intended to harm or threaten harm. I think that labelling unintentional harm as aggressive or microaggressive implies an unwarranted level of moral condemnation.

The second reason I’m skeptical of microaggressions is that some iterations of the concept focus on the impact of a statement or action, not its intent. The problem is that this is a principle without limits; it allows the bounds of what speech is acceptable to be determined by the most sensitive listener. Even seemingly anodyne statements can be considered a microaggression if heard by a particularly sensitive person.

For instance, when I was a student at William & Mary, the school put up signs celebrating the approach of graduation, which said, in reference to graduating students, “We all walk together.” Some students thought this was a microaggression because people come to William & Mary from different backgrounds, and their experiences at William & Mary are not the same. To suggest that the William & Mary community walks together, these students argued, is a microaggression because it erases the experiences of less privileged students and falsely claims that they are no different than their more privileged counterparts. (Not to mention the use of the word “walk” when some William & Mary students do not or cannot walk.)

I believe that these students genuinely took “We all walk together” to be a subtle communication of prejudice toward marginalized people. I do not believe, however, that this is the best way (or the correct way) to read the slogan. To my mind, “We all walk together” should be taken to mean that while students come to William & Mary from an array of backgrounds and have different experiences while there, their shared time on campus will help them relate to one another despite the divides of circumstance. I choose to read the slogan in this way because I extend to William & Mary the same grace and the same presumption of goodwill that I hope others will extend to me.

Of course, grace and a presumption of goodwill only take me so far. I can imagine a person who uses the n-word in casual conversation, but genuinely does not intend harm. Even if I believe this person, I do not think his intent excuses his casual use of a racial slur. And, just as I extend grace and a presumption of goodwill to speakers, so I must also extend it to listeners. I presume that people who say they find a certain statement or action to be a microaggression genuinely mean it. Even if I do not think they should see themselves as harmed by a statement, I must accept that they believe they are harmed.

When we are defining the bounds of acceptable speech, we cannot let the impact something has on the most sensitive listener govern. But we also cannot allow the intent of the least sensitive speaker to control. Instead, I believe when we consider whether speech is acceptable, we should focus on a combination of intent and impact. The first question should be whether a reasonable person could intend the statement in a non-offensive way. If so, we should then ask whether a reasonable person could nonetheless take the statement to be offensive.

Admittedly, “reasonable person” standards are not perfect. The reasonable person is supposed to be an amalgamation of all members of a community. This has consequences for how we determine the reasonableness of intent and impact. As an example, when considering whether the microaggression “that’s so gay” could be viewed as offensive, a reasonable person standard would take account of both LGBQ+ and straight perspectives. The net result of a reasonable person standard is that some statements that are not intended to be offensive will be deemed out of bounds, and some statements that are genuinely offensive will be deemed allowable. While the reasonable person standard is thus imperfect, I believe it is still the best option because it avoids the excesses of a standard that focuses solely on intent or on impact.

What, then, are we to do with the announcers who, in my view, used microaggressions when talking about Collin Morikawa? The first step, which I’ve focused on in this post, is to determine whether what they said qualifies as a microaggression at all. In my view, it does. As I’ve said, I don’t think the announcers intended to be offensive. Nonetheless, I think a reasonable person would find that the impact of what they said was to convey prejudice. So, in this case, the announcers’ statements were microaggressions, and should not have been made. (Of course, I’m just one person–others may disagree with me about this, and I’d love to hear from them!)

The second step, which I have not discussed in this post, is figuring out what to do when someone uses a microaggression. I’ll confess that I don’t have a good answer to this yet. I think it’s probably context-dependent, and the response to each microaggression has to be made on a case-by-case basis. (That’s a long-winded way of giving the standard lawyer answer: “Well, it depends.”) I might come back to responding to microaggressions in a future post, but for now I’ll stick with properly identifying them.

For members of a pluralistic society, both causing and feeling offense are unavoidable. When we offend others, we should treat them with grace and a presumption of goodwill. When others offend us, we should do the same. In this way, we can work together to live harmoniously despite our differences.