Thoughts on the Phrase “Virtue Signalling”

Some of the phrases used to dismiss calls for equity for marginalized groups do something weird: they take words that, definition-wise, seem like a good thing, and insinuate that it’s bad.

For example, consider the infamous “Social Justice Warrior” (SJW). Opponents use this term to disparage those who advocate for “political correctness” (another negative term whose literal meaning is not only inoffensive but positive). But take it into its parts: is anyone against justice? Perhaps the self-consciously corrupt, but very few otherwise. Likewise, there doesn’t seem to be anything bad about justice in the social sphere–don’t we all want that too? And, well, if there’s something we all want, isn’t it a good thing to fight for it, like a warrior?

Obviously, just because each word is literally positive doesn’t mean that the phrase itself must be. Words create meaning not just from their dictionary definitions but also from the context in which they’re used and their connotation, the emotional meanings that evolve from history and culture of use.

When someone in the comments section sneers “SJW,” what they mean isn’t “someone who is fighting for fairness in society,” they mean someone who adheres to an abstruse ideology that, to them, is far from justice and reality. And “warrior” is meant ironically–whatever the target is arguing about isn’t really fighting for justice. It’s quibbling over nonsense nothings. Only “real” fights count (and “real fights” are whatever improbably high bar the commenter unilaterally sets).

The phrase “virtue signalling” feels similar, if more insidious. Literally, it means communicating to others that the speaker/writer is or is doing something virtuous. Connotatively, it expresses three criticisms, one important, one interesting, and one highly problematic.

(Spoiler alert: in my admittedly un-comprehensive experience, I find the important criticism tends to come from members of the marginalized group under discussion and the other two from members of the group(s) privileged at their expense.)

Let’s tackle the problematic one first. This is the implicit criticism that the speaker doesn’t mean what they’re saying.

Think, for example, of a straight person writing something in support of the LGBTQ community, a cis man writing something in support of feminism, or a white person writing something anti-racist. When fellow members of their community of privilege accuse them of “virtue signalling,” the implicit accusation is often that the speaker is lying: “You know what the ‘right’ thing to say is. You don’t actually believe it, but you’re saying it so everyone praises you.”

The toxic underlying assumption in this context is that no one could truly believe what the speaker is expressing. Like, okay, we’re all told by some nebulous body of authority that we have to act in ways counter-intuitive to our community of privilege in order to respect and support others, but really our way of thinking is the normal and right way. Nobody actually takes identities and experiences other than ours seriously, because they don’t really exist.

(The second toxic underlying assumption is that community suffering from systemic oppression is actually the one with the power–that they “wield” the ability to call people racist, transphobic, etc. and that said ability is more damaging than actual racism, transphobia, etc.)

In this context, the criticism denies the humanity and lived experiences of whatever marginalized group the original speaker was supporting. This criticism doesn’t deserve to be taken seriously.

The second, interesting criticism is the implication that virtue is all well and good, but signalling virtue is not. You’re allowed to do good things, but you shouldn’t talk about them or show that you do them.

Most of us have the intuition that doing good for the sake of personal gain (for example, getting a reputation for doing good that then benefits its holder) is not as admirable as doing good for its own sake. That intuition is rooted in, among other things, a sense that eventually people will choose between doing what’s actually good, based on ethical principles, and doing what other people perceive as good. We also have a strong sense that people’s motives matter–if your stated principles clash with what you really believe, eventually you’ll act on what you feel, not what you say.

However, this criticism sometimes doesn’t take into account that there’s no escape from signalling. You’re always signalling something, even if it’s through silence or inaction. No matter what you do or say (or don’t do or say), people will perceive some message about your beliefs and principles. If you’re going to signal something, you might reasonably argue, it may as well be virtue. And you may as well do it on purpose to better refine your message.

Overall, I agree that considering one’s own motivations is important to doing good, but that sending virtuous messages isn’t in itself a bad thing. You never know what someone else needs to hear–whether they need to see that, yes, someone agrees with them or whether finding out what others think will give them the courage or inspiration they need to act. (Or whether hearing the message from you, personally, might be the first nudge someone needs to change their mind.)

Besides, if you try to signal nothing by saying nothing, you’re letting the reader decide what that lack-of-signal means. And unless someone knows you enough to have evidence that you believe otherwise, they’ll probably assume you’re signalling agreement with the status quo for those with your personal background.

This also isn’t to say that signalling virtuous messages is where doing good ends, which brings us to the third criticism.

The third criticism is the important one, the one that most deserves attention and consideration. This criticism emphasizes the “signalling.”

In this view, the original speaker is signalling virtue without following through with virtuous behaviour. Their beliefs may be noble, and they may truly feel allyship with whatever group or cause they support, but their support is limited to words and symbolic gestures.

In my limited experience, those who make these criticisms don’t often use the phrase “virtue signalling.” They’re more likely to identify with the marginalized group nominally supported by the original speaker. And what they have to say should be taken more seriously as a result: they’re in a position to explain how the original speaker can and should live their expressed convictions most appropriately and effectively, in a way the speaker themselves may not be able to see. And they’re in a position to rightfully criticize “armchair activism” that prioritizes symbols and allies’ comfort over positive change and support for the marginalized group.

They’re right. Actions with consequences are the only way forward to change.

That doesn’t mean that whoever expressed the original sentiment is a bad person who was wrong to try to do good.* It means that they now know more ways to do even better, and they can work towards those ways within whatever limitations exist for them.

So, overall, although I believe that the accusation of “virtue signalling” can express a legitimate and major criticism, it’s more often used to silence and invalidate expressions of positions members of privileged communities don’t want to accept. It’s important to consider whether signalling has been the end of our actions rather than the beginning, but it’s equally important not to be ashamed to signal what one believes.

* I mean, it doesn’t mean they’re NOT either–it’s possible to cynically support a movement publicly and emptily with the sole intention of increasing one’s own personal benefit. I’m not saying those people/corporations don’t exist either. Just that, from the outside, it kind of doesn’t matter, and, from the inside, all that matters is that the speaker and their loved ones know what type of person they are.