Consider this puzzle: Female genital cutting is practiced in over thirty countries, often by loving parents who believe they're protecting their daughters' futures. Western observers typically condemn the practice as barbaric. Practitioners often view Western sexual permissiveness with equal horror. Who's right? And more fundamentally—is there even a fact of the matter about who's right?

This question sits at the heart of moral relativism, one of the most misunderstood positions in ethics. The term gets thrown around loosely, sometimes as an accusation ('You're just a relativist!'), sometimes as a shield ('Well, morality is relative anyway'). But most people who invoke relativism haven't carefully examined what it actually claims—or the serious problems it faces.

Understanding moral relativism properly requires distinguishing between several distinct claims that often get tangled together. Once we untangle them, we can develop a more sophisticated approach to cross-cultural moral judgment—one that avoids both the arrogance of moral imperialism and the paralysis of thinking that anything goes.

The first crucial distinction separates descriptive relativism from its more controversial cousins. Descriptive relativism simply observes that different cultures hold different moral beliefs. The Inuit traditionally practiced senilicide; most Western societies consider it murder. Some societies permit polygamy; others criminalize it. This is an anthropological observation, not a philosophical thesis. It's essentially uncontroversial—of course moral beliefs vary across cultures.

The leap that causes trouble is moving from 'moral beliefs differ' to 'moral truths differ.' This is meta-ethical relativism—the claim that moral truths are somehow constituted by or dependent on cultural frameworks. On this view, when the ancient Spartans exposed weak infants on mountainsides, this was genuinely morally permissible for them, even if it would be genuinely wrong for us. Moral facts themselves become culture-relative.

Normative relativism goes further still, claiming that we ought not judge other cultures by our moral standards. This isn't just a claim about moral truth; it's a practical prescription about how we should behave. It tells us that cross-cultural moral criticism is somehow inappropriate or invalid.

Here's why conflating these matters: someone might accept descriptive relativism (obviously true) and slide into thinking they've thereby accepted meta-ethical relativism (highly controversial) or normative relativism (arguably self-defeating). The observation that people disagree about morality tells us nothing, by itself, about whether there are objective moral truths. After all, people disagree about physics too—that doesn't mean physical truths are relative to cultural beliefs about them.

Takeaway

When someone says 'morality is relative,' ask which claim they're making: that moral beliefs vary (trivially true), that moral truths vary with culture (deeply controversial), or that we shouldn't judge other cultures (potentially self-refuting).

Meta-ethical relativism faces a devastating logical challenge. Consider the normative relativist claim: 'We ought not impose our moral standards on other cultures.' This is itself a moral claim—and apparently one that the relativist believes applies universally. But if moral truths are culture-relative, why should this moral claim bind anyone whose culture endorses imposing its standards on others?

The relativist seems trapped. If they say their prohibition on cross-cultural judgment is objectively true, they've abandoned relativism. If they say it's merely true relative to their culture, then cultures that embrace moral imperialism aren't violating any genuine moral norm—they're just following their own equally valid framework. The relativist position appears to undermine its own authority to criticize anything, including the criticism of other cultures.

Some sophisticated relativists attempt escape routes. They might argue that relativism is a meta-ethical position about the nature of moral truth, not itself a moral claim. But this seems to leave us without any guidance for how to actually navigate moral disagreements. Or they might embrace the consequence that their anti-imperialism is indeed culture-relative—but then they've lost any principled ground to object when powerful cultures impose their values on weaker ones.

The deeper issue is that tolerance itself requires justification. Why should we tolerate practices we find abhorrent? If the answer is 'because morality is relative,' we face the paradox. If the answer is 'because tolerance is objectively valuable,' we've admitted at least one objective moral truth. The relativist who prizes tolerance seems committed to at least a minimal moral objectivism.

Takeaway

Before endorsing relativism, ask yourself: Is your commitment to cultural tolerance itself relative to your culture, or do you think all cultures genuinely ought to be tolerant? If the latter, you've already accepted at least one objective moral principle.

If pure relativism is untenable but cultural humility remains important, how should we approach cross-cultural moral assessment? John Rawls's method of reflective equilibrium offers guidance. We work back and forth between our particular moral judgments, our general principles, and our background theories, adjusting each in light of the others. Applied interculturally, this means taking seriously the moral insights embedded in different traditions while maintaining that some convergence on fundamental matters might be achievable.

A productive starting point is distinguishing between core and peripheral moral claims. Prohibitions on gratuitous cruelty, requirements to care for children, norms of reciprocity—these appear across virtually all human societies, suggesting some moral universals rooted perhaps in our shared nature. Disagreements about sexual ethics, property arrangements, or religious obligations are more variable and may reflect legitimate differences in how to realize shared underlying values in different circumstances.

When we encounter a practice that troubles us, we should ask several questions. First: Do we actually understand the practice? What appears cruel might serve protective functions we've missed. Second: Do practitioners themselves endorse it under conditions of adequate information and freedom? Practices sustained by ignorance or coercion have weaker claims to cultural legitimacy. Third: Does the practice violate what we might call 'basic human interests'—interests so fundamental that no cultural framework can reasonably override them?

This framework doesn't eliminate moral disagreement, but it provides structure for engagement. It allows us to maintain that female genital cutting causes serious harm regardless of cultural context while acknowledging that many of our other moral convictions may be more parochial than we realize. We can make cross-cultural judgments without assuming our culture has achieved moral perfection, remaining open to the possibility that other traditions might teach us something about justice, community, or flourishing that we've overlooked.

Takeaway

When judging practices from other cultures, first ensure you understand them fully, then ask whether they're genuinely endorsed by affected parties under conditions of freedom and information, and finally consider whether they violate interests so fundamental that no cultural context could justify overriding them.

Moral relativism, properly understood, is not the simple 'anything goes' position it's often caricatured as. Descriptive relativism is uncontroversial; meta-ethical and normative relativism face serious philosophical challenges, particularly around self-refutation and the status of tolerance itself.

Yet the insights motivating relativism—that our moral certainties may be more culturally shaped than we realize, that powerful cultures have often imposed their values destructively—remain important. The goal is intellectual humility without intellectual paralysis.

The most defensible position is a modest moral universalism that acknowledges core cross-cultural values while remaining genuinely open to learning from moral traditions different from our own. We can criticize practices that violate basic human interests while recognizing that many of our other moral convictions deserve continued scrutiny.