PROF MAMOKGETHI PHAKENG | A lesson on morality, responding to Lebogang Ramafoko

Anyone who has taken a Philosophy class will recall that one of the first things taught in the first week is the distinction between law, ethics, and morality. The three concepts may influence one another, but they remain fundamentally different.

The law is imposed on people by the State, and non-compliance is punished by constitutionally appointed judges through legal consequences.

Ethics are often imposed on employees, and non-compliance is met with professional and legal consequences. The most interesting is morals (personal beliefs about what is right or wrong), which are self-imposed, but may be influenced by one’s family, religion, class, and community.

What makes morals interesting is that they are subjective to the extreme, given that the world’s population is made up of wildly diverse persons, and what one person considers "right" may be another's "wrong", yet both could be equally valid within the context of their personal lives. Given this subjectivity, the only penalty for non-compliance with one’s moral code is a troubled conscience.

However, over time, people have sought to make morality a group project – where a mob imposes their moral code on others, and non-compliance with that code receives public ridicule and judgement by the self-appointed moral police.

I argue that this moralistic policing is oppressive and dangerous because it creates an environment where dissent is not tolerated and silences those who dare think differently. To expect that any one moral framework should dominate all others is to disregard the complexity and diversity of human existence.

But this is not a new phenomenon. In pre-contemporary South Africa, the imperialist moral code, which included patriarchy and women's relegation – constructs proven to be un-African – was imposed on and accepted by many African homes. Powerful women who dared to believe their place was not confined to the kitchen were vilified and condemned by communities – including by other women who had internalised these imperialist moral standards.

The situation is, arguably, marginally different today – the patriarchal moral code is slowly losing relevance, but a new breed of moral dictatorship, with a new moral code, is on the rise. Recently, after announcing my intention to attend the Chris Brown concert with my family in December, a small but loud mob of outraged moral jurists came after me, guns-blazing, because they believed my decision was not in line with their moral code.

Insults came from different angles, and one of them went as far as labelling me a "GBV apologist" and claimed I was embarrassing myself.

LEBOGANG RAMAFOKO: Mamokgethi Phakeng’s politics on abortion perpetuates harmful stigma

I was made aware that this same individual had previously posted about her decision to abort, in which she dismissed the moral judgements of "pro-lifers," stating that she would "abort, abort, and abort until [she] chooses otherwise."

I immediately thought this would make a good lesson on morality, because this person, who was harshly condemned for exercising her personal choice, was now passionately condemning me for exercising my personal choice, simply because it didn’t align with her moral framework.

Therefore, I responded by stating that I would attend every concert until I choose otherwise and asked if the freedom to make personal choices (whether about our bodies, time or money) was only reserved (or limited to) abortions (in essence, what SHE believes is morally right).

As expected, my question was met not with a reasoned answer but with flowing insults. Be that as it may, and as much as my response was a question, it still exposed the hypocritical nature of her harsh judgement of my decision to attend the Chris Brown concert.

She harshly judged me because she felt my decision to attend the concert was immoral, but at the same time, she expected her own decisions to be exempt from moral scrutiny. And that is the crux of the issue; those who preach personal freedom often abandon those principles when confronted with choices they don’t agree with. Their moral policing is rarely about morality itself; it’s about entitlement and control.

Naturally, some people, whether conveniently or out of ignorance, misinterpreted my question as a stance against abortion. A certain Lebogang Ramafoko went so far as to write an article accusing me of having “politics” on abortion, which she argues are “harmful.” She based this on the absurd premise that I had condemned an innocent woman for her reproductive choices.

To twist such a straightforward question into a definitive statement on abortion "stigmatisation" requires a level of intellectual dishonesty that defies reason; this is a clear textbook case of clutching at straws. Lebogang, and others of her ilk, either missed the context entirely or wilfully misread my words because they were more interested in reacting than understanding.

My original comment remains public, and at no point did I judge anyone for their choices to abort, nor did I ever use the term “abortionists”, as Lebogang falsely claimed. Some argued that I should have used a different example instead of abortion to illustrate my point. But in the context of making a moral argument about people having the freedom to make (legal) personal choices about their time, money or bodies, there’s no "scale of sensitivity" to adhere to.

Indeed, my factual stance is that people should be allowed to enjoy their universal right to freedom of choice, and that extends to everything in life, including, yes, abortions. The politics on abortion that Lebogang sought to attribute to me are paranoia-fuelled fabrications. But, even if I were morally opposed to abortions, I would be perfectly within my rights to hold that belief.

Having “social and economic power” – whatever that’s supposed to mean – does not mean the moral stance of others should hold a monopoly over my own.

The legality argument, that abortions were legalised in South Africa, has been raised many times. But that does not settle the moral debate; simply because something is legal does not mean everyone will accept it as moral. I am not sure why this appears to be rocket science to some, but it seems worth explaining in terms that even a teenager would grasp.

Apartheid, for example, was legal for many years, yet some people believed it was an immoral system, while its architects believed it was justified because they operated on the premise that black and white people were unequal.

I can already hear the usual crowd claiming I am comparing abortions to apartheid. Of course, I am, clearly, not making any comparison. However, I have worked as an academic for over two decades – I know students have different intellectual abilities, so I have the duty to further simplify with another example.

Euthenasia and assisted suicides are illegal in South Africa and legal in the Netherlands. However, some in South Africa believe people should have the right to end their lives on their terms.

Others, meanwhile, believe that all life should end naturally, without external intervention. The existence of these differing opinions does not change the fact that euthanasia is illegal here. But legal status still does not settle the moral debate.

Those with the financial means travel to the Netherlands to end their lives under euthanasia laws. Now, to expect that everything legal should be considered morally right, and vice-versa, is disingenuous and myopic.

Going back to the philosophy class. My decision to attend the Chris Brown concert violates no law in this country – call it whatever you like, but it is not illegal. South Africans are divided on the matter, with some seeing nothing wrong with attending, while others believe it is akin to supporting a GBV perpetrator – that’s their opinion, and they are fully entitled to it. But the same polarisation exists around abortion.

In South Africa, people are free to abort, as long as they do so within the confines of the law. People may call it immoral or even murder – they are entitled to such views. But the fact remains – it is legal, and no amount of moral policing will change that, just as no amount of hysteria will change the legality of attending a legal concert.

To claim that making such an argument is "shaming" anyone is an insult to basic intelligence. To suggest that this argument reflects some “harmful politics” on abortion is a ridiculous exercise in bad faith. What Ramafoko failed to grasp is that my comment was not a critique of abortion – it was a critique of hypocrisy. The fact that anyone takes her arguments seriously is baffling, but then again, this is the same crowd that thrives on performative outrage, regardless of facts.

Of course, some claimed my decision to attend the Chris Brown concert was hypocritical, but I made it clear that I separate music from the artist, and it’s expected for some people to have a different opinion.

Nonetheless, the truth is, moral issues are inherently controversial and polarising, but no moral issue is more sacred than another. Whether one compares euthanasia with the death penalty, abortions with "reckless" spending, or excessive drinking to religion, these are all moral debates, and they hold different meanings for different people – as they should in a democracy we are told is the best in the world.

So, if you dare judge someone for exercising their legal right, know that others will judge you just as harshly for exercising your other legal rights – no matter how seemingly unrelated. This is not a matter of comparing unrelated issues, but of holding people to the standard they set for others. You judge alcoholics, they judge you for gambling.

That’s how it works, and it shouldn’t be a source of outrage. But of course, the dictatorial mob mentality that dominates today’s discourse leaves no room for debate. You either fall in line with their self-righteous fanaticism, or you’re called “insensitive” or “vile”.

What’s even more ridiculous is the assumption that individuals with so-called "social and economic power" are not sentient beings with emotions. Attacks on such individuals are conveniently ignored, but their retaliation is heavily scrutinised and condemned.

The truth is that no one is immune from attack. If you’re bold enough to attack anyone – whether in the physical or digital world – then you must be bold enough to handle the consequences, whatever they may be.

The day we accept that others can impose their moral beliefs on us is the day we surrender our freedom of choice. No one has the right to dictate how another person should feel about a particular issue, especially when it is legal.

Even the law itself does not seek to dictate morality; it merely provides a common ground where individuals of varying moral beliefs can coexist peacefully. The law exists precisely because we cannot govern ourselves based on morality – if we did, society would collapse, and we’d all end up behind bars.

To coexist in a world as diverse as ours, we must recognise, accept, and respect the diversity of beliefs we each hold because no belief, and certainly no decision, can ever be universally accepted, no matter how good it appears. If climate change, gender equality, universal healthcare, and even the existence of God can be highly contested, then how could we possibly expect agreement on personal choices like attending a concert or undergoing an abortion?

It is clear that unanimous consensus, on any moral issue, is naturally impossible. This lack of consensus is not necessarily a flaw but a natural effect of our individuality. Societal harmony is achieved not through unanimous agreement, but through the acceptance of differing views, on different subjects.

A progressive society is not measured by how much we agree with one another, but by how well we tolerate each other’s differences.