The Case Against Normativity

In defense of messiness, imagination, and moral humility.

“I’m learning to spend less time critiquing someone else’s resistance and more time imagining and implementing my own.” - Cole Arthur Riley

In my last post, I discussed rigid radicalism, a concept by Nick Montgomery and carla bergman in their phenomenal book Joyful Militancy. It is a phenomenon observed in progressive-oriented spaces in which some individuals hold on to progressive beliefs in a dogmatic, rigid way that may not always serve the causes progressives care about. Correction, canceling, and shaming — even without ill intent — are features of rigid radicalism and can get in the way of the curiosity, community, and care needed to sway people to the progressive side sustainably.

I’ve considered what forces undergird this gut reaction and instinct in many progressives. To defend us (as a self-proclaimed progressive myself), the vast majority of the reasons for being too “rigid” in how we approach social justice and change-making are rooted in experiences of real harm. I (and you, the reader) know firsthand that people can be very anti-Black, speak violently toward and about women, use seemingly harmless terms and jokes that alienate queer and trans folks, and proliferate rhetoric that creates a hostile and anxious environment for immigrants. Many on social media also fall prey to misinformation about our warming climate, the actual effectiveness of specific economic policies, and false claims about the ineffectiveness of vaccines.

Many of us find ourselves in community with family members, friends, and colleagues who hold toxic and oppressive beliefs that reveal themselves in unfortunate moments, triggered by a joke, one-off comment, or a random debate. This triggering is especially accentuated if you hold a marginalized identity. Black people notice unobvious anti-Black comments, queer people pick up when others are too heteronormative and don’t give space for varied familial makeups, immigrants with insecure citizenship status notice when a friend subtly alludes to not having a job because of “outsiders,” neurodivergent folks notice when people are consistently fail to accommodate them. Getting defensive and being reactionary to not-so-great comments made by people in your community is something I relate to deeply.

Still, I think there is something deeper that drives this gut reaction — something not only rooted in trauma but embedded in the broader social air we breathe. I think that something is normativity.

I define normativity as the alignment with and promotion of prescribed ways of living, behaving, and relating to others, shaped by ideologies, frameworks, and worldviews that dictate what is considered moral or immoral. Some basic norms most of us willingly adhere to in our society include nonviolence, love and support for family, honesty, kindness, and empathy, among others. When we behave in a way that does not align with these norms, our communities typically confront us to hold us accountable and course-correct our behavior. Our legal system attempts to protect these values, threatening state consequences if we act a fool.

Beyond the very basic foundational norms that most of us can agree help keep the fabric of our communities and relationships intact are the “norms” that try to speak to the deeper parts of humanity’s purpose. As an American, I’m aware that Judeo-Christian values greatly influence this country. These include those basic norms mentioned earlier that folks of all religious and ideological stripes are on board with. They also include values like humility, discipline, and forgiveness, in addition to values like gender roles, suffering as a virtue, and submission to authority. Many of these values have been promoted as normative — meaning proponents say they are how people should behave and believe.

America is also greatly influenced by white supremacy, patriarchy, and capitalism, which include values such as racial stereotyping, hyperindividualism, male leadership, winning by any means, and viewing having wealth as intrinsically more valuable than not, among too many others. Throughout the history of this country, progressives (if I can use this term retroactively), abolitionists, suffragists, and civil rights and anti-war activists have fought against these norms rooted in the subjugation of entire groups of people.

Progressives had to promote unpopular values such as equity, justice, and feminism as normative values throughout very trying times to win legal rights and protections for vulnerable groups. Just as those with harmful beliefs held their values with great fervor, forcing the entire country and world to align with their oppressive views, so too did those who wanted a better life for people who weren’t white, cis, straight, and wealthy hold their values with great passion, hoping that their views would become more normative.

But what happens when the tactics of promoting values and ideas, even if rooted in pushing against oppressive forces, become too normative? I don’t think it’s productive to mimic the control, surveillance, and moral absolutism that proponents of oppressive systems use to make their ideas normative in society. Moral superiority and ideological gatekeeping are tactics that fundamentalist white supremacists have used for decades and centuries to further entrench their worldview and a status quo society featuring remarkable inequality and oppression. They believed their views were intrinsically superior.

While what initially drew me to progressive politics was a framework to view the world that made sense of the state violence I witnessed in my community, what made me stay and make a home here is mutual care, imagination, creativity, and experimentation on how to best show up for each other in a world filled with ideological, unimaginative, and stagnant boxes. Why create another box? Some boxes may have served our communities in the past, but there’s no need to stay there. What if we didn’t hold our beliefs as intrinsically the best, which can lead to harsh judgment, fear of making mistakes, and an obsession with being “correct?”

I recognize there is a contradiction here. A case against normativity requires progressives to give up the notion that their ideas are intrinsically correct. But this is kind of impossible. It is not unreasonable to think of your ideas as superior to others. I mean, I think of every belief that I have as morally superior to countering beliefs. That’s what it means to have an opinion or worldview.

But, it’s important for us to recognize that others hold their values and beliefs similarly. Those obsessed with absolute power will and have used violent and coercive tactics to overcome these differences. But how can progressives go about this? My answer is that I don’t have a complete answer, but I do have some suggestions.

First, we can prioritize relationality over ideological purity. Focusing on how people relate, support, and grow with each other rather than whether they tick every theoretical or rhetorical box will move us much further along in building a larger base. It’s not the belief in justice and equity that causes issues — it’s the insistence that those values must be universally performed in identical ways, without room for process, growth, or divergence, that leads to unnecessary rigidity.

Another idea is to truly embrace experimentation and messiness. Many prison abolitionists that I follow always emphasize how it is important to experiment with how to respond to violence within a community because there are no roadmaps outside of the prison-industrial system. Letting go of the need to appear perfect or correct is essential when experimenting with harm reduction and prevention. This can be applied to how we respond to language we don’t like or other situations in which our fellow community members show up in ways rooted in what we think are problematic beliefs.

Furthermore, limiting our use of moralism as a weapon of shame could be transformative. Moving beyond normativity requires recognizing that shaming potential allies for their perceived moral failure can replicate domination rather than undo it. Cultivating spaces and practices where life can thrive outside of imposed norms requires not simply rejecting dominant norms but also refusing the urge to replace them with new rigid standards. This can help us move beyond static identities and hardened politics into something more fluid, alive, and deeply transformative.

I want to end with a breathing meditation from Cole Arthur Riley, author of Black Liturgies, who I quoted at the beginning of this piece. She’s also the creator of an online space (also called Black Liturgies) on Instagram that offers regular reflections rooted in Black identity, faith, and justice. It reflects the idea that multiple truths can exist simultaneously and interact in dynamic, transformative ways. I encourage you to breathe along:

INHALE: Many streams

EXHALE: lead to the same waters.

INHALE: Liberation

EXHALE: has many doors.