By now, I am used to seeing everything go online, whether I like it or not. Banking, shopping, dating, and even teaching online don’t surprise me anymore. Like many, I read and think about how online interaction has fundamentally changed aspects of our common life, such as our politics. But despite being a professor of ethics and religion, I failed to give much thought to where most people turn when making ethical decisions, and how the migration online could shift these processes too.
And then Facebook’s algorithms brought me AITA.
For those not “online,” the initialism stands for Am I the… well, how can we put this politely? … let’s say that last A stands for in the wrong. The notion is to ask, not merely in a self-justifying and rhetorical way, for feedback about one’s moral choices.
“I refused to include my stepchildren in my will. AITA?”
“My parents pierced my baby’s ears against my will, and I’ve cut off unsupervised contact. AITA?”
“My mother-in-law refused to accommodate my dietary restriction, so I left the family gathering. AITA?”
“My son came out as gay, and my wife wants to send him to ‘conversion camp.’ WIBTA (would I be in the wrong) if I divorced her?”
These are just summaries to give you the gist. Ordinarily, several paragraphs describe the situation from the poster’s point of view. Issues range from the mundane to the serious, but most involve high stakes for a relationship. Commenters are welcome to weigh in with “NTA” — not [in the wrong] — or “YTA”— yes, you’re [in the wrong] — with some explanation of their reasons, requests for other essential information, or advice. Some scenarios accumulate thousands of comments, and if there is enough consensus, the post may earn a badge with the community’s judgment.
This is not just a niche phenomenon. Though I only see these scenarios when they come across my Facebook feed, they come from a dedicated AITA subreddit with 23 million members. Other fastest-growing Reddit groups include r/WhatShouldIDo and r/whatdoIdo, gaining thousands of users daily. But it’s not only in forums that are specifically dedicated to decision-making that ethical questions are asked; they come up regularly in niche Facebook groups I’ve joined — one for women in my city, one for moms with Ph.D.s, and others.
As ethically relevant as these stories are, I can ask Facebook to “show fewer posts like this,” but my fascination is clear. The forums are like a vast repository of informal qualitative data on how people judge right from wrong. The moderators of the AITA subreddit understand this: the description says it offers “catharsis for the frustrated moral philosopher in all of us.” I find myself paying attention to how duties and privileges are being ascertained, what moral significance different relationships are seen to have, and I wonder how I would approach the conversation if someone raised a given question with me.
Perhaps most of all, I wonder: do any of these people have a pastor?
Churches can surely learn a few things by observing what goes on in these forums. Here is just a beginning, though the reflections could go on.
- Making Access
Since we know that face-to-face interactions remain more satisfying than online ones, there must be some powerful reasons leading people to turn to online forums for help in discernment. For starters, accessing people online is much easier than in-person these days. But even when our interactions are in person or in the context of an offline relationship, isn’t it a delicate dance to find the right opening? We ask, Is the friendship one of mutual trust? Can the friend handle this type of ambiguity? Is it the right time? Am I being a burden?
Even pastors may not be accustomed to, or skilled at, accompanying people in matters of everyday moral judgment. I remember approaching my pastor as a young adult to hear his perspective on a relationship question. It wasn’t a grave matter, but he remarked that it must be really weighing on me because I had decided to come to my pastor about it. It signaled to me that he didn’t expect to be a resource in routine matters, and I might have made a faux pas by asking.
In contrast, the strangers who are members of a designated online forum will never be taken aback by a request for input. They may not share a moral framework, may not be exemplary people, and may not have refined their abilities to discern — none of this context is available—but at least they are available.
Assuming we would prefer the church to be the place people can go for aid in discernment, what would it take to cultivate spaces where it is possible? Are we creating opportunities for trusting relationships to develop? Do pastors and priests clearly offer to accompany people in matters great and small? Too many people seem to see church as a place for stiff propriety — a place to show their faces but not their souls. How can we change this culture?
- Envisioning Community
Online forums reveal some serious confusion about relationships, especially families. A family is often construed in terms of emotional bonds or shared lifestyle, to the point that they seem more like cliques. A boyfriend’s parents might be called “in-laws” (though marriage law has specifically not been invoked), or a spouse might be excluded: “Just because he married your daughter doesn’t make him part of the family.” A widowed man might be called “still married” because he is not ready to date again. When a relationship status is defined affectively, it is hard to distinguish one’s responsibility from one’s wishes.
Children are a complicated part of this. While they seem to be the only category of person who doesn’t have to earn care, they are typically considered the sole responsibility of parents. No one else has the right to make decisions about them (ok), the obligation to care for them (ok), or — sometimes — even the obligation to be around them (more surprising). Parents are in a bind: since they are held to be utterly and completely responsible for the decision to bring children into the world, they are also utterly and completely responsible for the children’s ongoing existence and well-being. No wonder many people opt out of parenthood; this level of solitary existential responsibility can topple a person! A further problem for this worldview is seen in the case of a disabled child whose need for care outlives the parents, because even siblings are predictably told, “She is not your responsibility.”
If no one is responsible to care, and if family always has to be earned, there may simply be no answer to the questions we are so urgently asking. Underlying most of the scenarios, I think, is usually something like “How can I belong?” “How can I be safe in a relationship?” “Who matters?” “Am I loved?” “What if I fail?” “What will make me okay?”
The church can address this confusion in at least two ways. First, we can engage people in discipleship that teaches again what it means to commit to each other in family — what it means to see marriage and children as a matter of commitment and welcome. Second, we must learn to demonstrate that membership in the church is a bond even stronger than kinship. Anyone who has been received through baptism is a gift and a responsibility, not someone who has to prove worthiness or purchase care. Few congregations probably manage this, but we have to realize how desperately our society needs it.
- Shifting the Terms of Judgment
Online forums also reveal some worrying things about the process of moral judgment itself. First, in a situation of conflict, there is often the assumption that someone is an a … ahem … a contemptible person. If it’s not you, it must be the other person. Judgments are made with finality, labels are assigned, and the result is shame or vindication. There is no means of reconciliation or growth. (How could there be, after all, when the community you form with your “advisers” materializes for just a moment and then dissipates?)
Second, the questions and responses usually take for granted an individualistic, rights-based morality, in which the most important thing is to preserve one’s autonomy and avoid violating others’. In this mindset, the main thing is to determine what I am obligated to do, and what I am not. Anyone who expected something of me that I was not required to do is in the wrong; if I was required but I didn’t do it, then I am in the wrong. While this may work well enough for arbitrating legal questions for the public (it seems to me that minimal duty is all that can be enforced by the state), it is a tragedy if all our relationships become centers of mere obligation and contractual exchange.
Maybe your mother-in-law isn’t obligated to honor your food requests — whether they are due to health or preference makes some difference here. But her willingness to do so certainly does invite a warmer relationship. And that is true regardless of your reasons, isn’t it? If she doesn’t offer this accommodation, what about thinking of it as an opportunity missed, rather than a violation of rights? What opportunities remain for deeper communion? What kind of relationship is possible? What else is going on that limits it?
Your wife wanting to send your gay son to “conversion camp” certainly violates current best practices, even for conservatives. And you are clearly feeling deeply alienated from her. But before divorcing her, first reflect on how it came about that the two of you have such different values, and that it has surfaced suddenly. What are her beliefs, fears, and coping mechanisms? What are yours? What other options are open to her — options that make sense in her worldview, but that she hasn’t yet considered — for parenting a child through a development she can’t celebrate? If you can stretch toward her in these ways, you will have a new opportunity to learn more about her and yourself: how you can both get curious, how you can both grow, and whether she can show up for relationships with both you and your son.
Instant relationships with unknown advisers usually can’t walk people through discerning nuance. They can’t handle long processes. They can’t observe character growth over time, or the culture of a family. They can’t perceive blind spots.
But can a church? Can friends and pastors? We may struggle against a culture of anonymity and low contact, but still, I think it is at least possible to hope that we can make these discernments. The sacraments can shift our thinking toward reconciliation and the long term; good sermons can give us countercultural tools of thought. Study groups and shared service can form the basis for discipling friendships; a wise pastor or mentor may ask just the right question.
The fundamental question isn’t “Am I in the wrong?” It’s “How are we being conformed to the likeness of Christ?”
Abigail Woolley Cutter, PhD is assistant professor of theology at King University in Bristol, TN. She enjoys the music and many trails of Appalachia with her husband and two young children.