Jesus on “Whataboutism”
by Ronald “Dee” Vaughan
Do you ever feel as though you are living in the closing scene of the building of the tower of Babel, awakening to a world in which people can’t talk to each other? Especially on the hot topics of politics and religion, people seem to speak different languages with no translation app available. One cause of our disjointed discourse is a poisonous practice known by the almost silly-sounding name “whataboutism.”
In the game of whataboutism, when a person or group is challenged to explain or defend their position, especially the weaknesses or inconsistencies of their thinking and doing, they respond by following the old maxim, “The best defense is a good offense.” Rather than shine the light of reflective exploration on their beliefs and behaviors, offering themselves and their hearers a deeper understanding, they turn the light away from themselves and upon those they wish to defeat, not enlighten. The verbal tip of this offensive spear is often, “But what about…?” The amplified version of this statement goes something like, “You, or your group, or your position, is at least as bad, and probably worse, than me and mine. Let’s talk about the beam I see so clearly in your eye before we worry about what I believe is a small speck in my eye.” Whataboutism turns a conversation into an auction of accusations, a ping pong match of putdowns with all the intellectual and spiritual substance of “Yo’ mama” insults.
I wish Jesus had spoken more directly to some of the issues his followers struggle to sort out today, but I don’t have to wonder what he thought about whataboutism. He confronted it with clarity and authority. In John 21, we find the very touching story of Jesus reclaiming Simon Peter after his disciple of big promises had, in the crucible of crisis, denied him three times. Jesus recommissions Peter to lead and care for God’s people. But then, Jesus tells Peter plainly that answering the call to follow him will come at great cost. Peter will pay for faithfulness by losing his freedom and his life. Feeling the weight of Jesus’ call and the consequences of accepting it, Peter does a very human thing. He tries to change the subject. He sees another disciple, John, we believe, and uses the same magic words we use to try to escape the crisis of personal accountability. “Lord, what about him?” (John 21:21b) “Will he pay so high a price for following you? Are you asking him to suffer as you say I will suffer?” Jesus won’t be distracted by this relational slight of hand. He won’t change the subject. He won’t lose sight of the issue. He answers, “…what is that to you. You must follow me.” (John 21:22).
Christ’s call is the cure for whataboutism. Whenever I’m tempted to blame another person or group or race or denominational faction for the world’s problems and, in so doing, attempt to excuse myself from the crisis of personal responsibility, he rouses me from my whataboutistic rationalizations with a wakeup call of accountability: “You must follow me.” Blaming is no substitute for discipleship. If others are hateful, I am still called to love. If others seek to divide, I am to build unity. When others say the worst about me, I’m called to see and bless the good in them. When I’m slapped, I’m called to break the cycle of retaliation by turning the other cheek. When people attack my weaknesses and failures, I admit to the ones that are true, inviting them to do the same. When others seem to have it easy, I’m to remember that my life, pain and all, is a gift and a miracle to be cherished.
The war against whataboutism begins in my heart and yours. The more clearly I hear Christ’s call to follow him, the more passionately I pursue that calling, and the more aware I am of how far behind I lag in that journey, the less of life I’ll waste trying to excuse myself by blaming others.
Ronald D. Vaughan
June 29, 2023