Without further ado:
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“I love you, but . . . "
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“I love you, but . . . "
Some gays hate to hear this phrase. Hate it. When they hear it they go blind with rage. They are offended, often loudly, and they lecture the person who said it. If they don’t lecture in the moment, there’s a good chance they will lecture later, in writing, through Facebook or email or a blog. If they don’t do that, they’ll just let the rage boil in their spleen.
Today I want to talk about Clive’s discussion about this phrase. Clive, and many others in this community, have a problem with the phrase “I love you, but [any non-gay-affirming thing].” Not only do I not have a problem with that phrase, I think that having a problem with it shows a lack of empathy. My next few posts will examine why I think that by looking at at Clive’s words.
First: “But” is as foul as “any of the four letter words that I try sometimes unsuccessfully to avoid.” Points off right out the gate for outrageous hyperbole. You think “but” is as foul as “shit,” “fuck,” or “cunt”? Maybe you avoid different words than I do.
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Second: “When I was young, I learned something that has stayed with me my entire life ... a little insight into English grammar. I learned that when we use ‘but’ in a sentence, we in fact generally negate most of what we have said before the ‘but’.”
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Let’s test this!
“He would have protested but he was afraid”
Negation? No. Exception.
“There is no doubt but he won”
Negation? No. It’s a synonym for “that.”
“It never rains but it pours”
Negation? No. Requirement.
“No sooner started but it stopped”
Negation? No. It’s a synonym for “than.”
“he was called but he did not answer”
Negation? No. Contrast.
“not peace but a sword”
Contrast.
“poor but proud”
Contrast.
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"But" does many things, but to say that it generally negates is just not true. Back when Clive’s post was fresh, I mentioned this in a comment, and though three people responded to that comment, no one disputed the point—they just considered it inconsequential. I got very frustrated then, because how can the fact that the underlying assumption of the series is obviously faulty be inconsequential?
Clive responded by telling me that “The point of this series is to help those who are Mormon and really want to build bridges to the gay community understand that communication for communication’s sake is worse than meaningless. If Mormons want to build bridges, they have to be willing to actually open their hearts, reach out, and show a little understanding on OUR terms, not theirs. That’s what reaching out is all about . . . Moving from a safe space to the place where you feel a little discomfort.”
I have all sorts of problems with that (next week we’ll explore them!) but for now I just want to say that if you get to your conclusion via faulty reasoning, then you leave your conclusion wide open to claims that it is faulty as well.
Suppose that some Mormons who really want to build bridges to the gay community read this. Perhaps they, like me, will notice right from the start that something is amiss and so will be skeptical of everything else in the post, right up to not believing the series’ conclusion, not necessarily because it’s a bad conclusion, but because they don’t trust the source. Or perhaps they’ll agree with the argument right up until the conclusion, which challenges them in uncomfortable ways—then they back up until they find this flaw and say “Ah ha! I knew it. The foundation is wrong, so the conclusion is wrong, so I don’t have to change.”
In the end, the people who will agree with Clive after reading the “I love you, but . . . “ are the same people who agreed with him before, but worse: all of those people are now more strongly confirmed in their belief. In their minds they’ve just experienced a well-thought out argument supporting their beliefs, despite the fact that the argument really supported nothing at all, because it was based on faulty assumption. Whatever the intended point of the series is, the result is that no hearts or minds are won and everyone is just convinced more strongly that they are right.
Now. Next week I’ll talk about the circumstance in which “but” statements actually are negation markers and what that means to this argument (hint: It includes the word “hypocrisy”).
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In case you’re not yet convinced that that thing Clive learned in grammar school has been corrupted to suit the speech he wanted to give, here is the definition M-W gives for ESL learners (all examples in this post are taken from m-w.com, the editors’ preferred dictionary!):
1 — used to introduce a statement that adds something to a previous statement and usually contrasts with it in some way
1 — used to introduce a statement that adds something to a previous statement and usually contrasts with it in some way
- I don't know her, but my husband does.
- He wants to go to the movies, but I want to go to the museum.
- He plans to visit Boston and Chicago, but not New York.
- The book is not a biography at all but (instead is) a fictional account.
- It's not the music I don't like but (rather) the band themselves.
- She got the promotion not by luck but by hard work.
- The fighting has been going on for years. But to really understand the current situation, you have to look at the history of the region.
- She called his name, but he did not answer.
- He fell but (he) wasn't hurt/injured.
- I told him to stay, but he refused to.
- It might have been raining, but it was still a nice wedding.
- I'd love to come to the party, but [=however] I'll be away that weekend.
- I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you.
- The dress is quite plain but (it's) pretty.
- They were polite, but not really friendly.
- Not only was it quite cold on our trip, but it rained the whole time too.
- I can't do it—but neither can you.
Look at all that contrast.


