My Freeman column this morning deals with the ongoing debate over so-called “microaggressions.” I could have written much more than I did there, so I want to use this post to expand on one thread of that column.

For 26 years I have lived in a rural town of 7000 in which I am among a very small handful of Jews. A good number of the natives of the town have had little to no contact with Jews for their entire lives. I have lost count of how many times I have been wished a “Happy Easter” or my kids, when they were young, were asked if Santa was coming or if they’d put up their Christmas decorations yet. When my then five year old son told a deli counter worker at the grocery store “We don’t celebrate Christmas,” the look on her face suggested she’d finally met the Satan worshippers she’d been told about. I could go on.

Today, of course, we’d call these “microaggressions” and some would be all over social media proclaiming how these people were out to “annihilate my Jewish self-identity” and how they needed to check their (Christian) privilege.

Over these 26 years, I’ve had ample opportunity to point out to my fellow townsfolk that we’re Jewish and that their “microaggressions” were offensive. I never did.  There are many reasons why.

First, I did not attribute to malice what is most likely mere ignorance. (Forgive them, they know not what they say.) The language many now use to talk of microaggressions smacks of the assumption that, for example, men who take up too much room on the train seat etc. are doing so out of intentional sexism. Even if those who make such accusations say that it’s deeply structural, their language and rhetoric is more often than not the language of, well, accusation.

It has always been my assumption that people who say such things to me and my family are wishing us well and making friendly conversation, not exercising their Christian privilege in order to make us uncomfortable. There was, therefore, no reason to intentionally make them feel uncomfortable in return.

After all, this is my town too and I have to live with these people. Do I prefer that they knew more about Judaism and wouldn’t say such things?  Yup.  Do I think that the deli counter at the grocery store is the right place for a lecture on religious tolerance?  Nope. They are my kids’ friends’ parents and they are my neighbors and they are sometimes even my co-workers (or students). I will turn the other cheek and remember that I’m probably also not without similar sin. Jewish parents who are willing to go into the elementary schools to teach kids about the Jewish holidays is a much more productive way to combat this ignorance.

Second, we live in a world of ubiquitous negative externalities. In the wise words of The Economic Way of Thinking textbook:  “Civil people learn to ignore most of the negative externalities that others inflict on them, and try to be sensitive to the unintended costs that their own actions impose on others…If people insist on obtaining absolutely everything to which they think they have a right, civilization will give way to warfare.” What it means to live in a liberal society is to recognize that we cannot eliminate every single negative externality on the planet, and that, for the sake of the greater peace, we cannot assert every “right” we have not to be offended, insulted, disrespected, etc.. Sometimes we simply have to tolerate what we do not like because that, and not taxation, is the true price of civilization.

Finally, it has always seemed grossly out of proportion and even privileged of me to complain about these anti-Semitic “microaggressions.” Jews have spent thousands of years trying to survive against those who would wipe us off the planet. My people have been subject to crucifixion, the Inquisition, and pogroms. We have been sent to the gas chamber and turned into science experiments for the master race. Our families have seen their peaceful celebrations of freedom blown up by fanatics. I do not have to worry about getting on a bus and it being the last time I see my family. My synagogue does not need a constant police presence so it isn’t firebombed. I can walk through my town with a kipah if I wish and not be subject to anything more than a strange look.

In that context, calling “Happy Easter” or that strange look or “are your kids coming to the store when Santa is here?” a “microaggression that annihilates my self-identity” seems grossly out of proportion and privileged. If you’re constantly worried about your self-identity being annihilated, it’s probably because the odds of your actual self being annihilated are a lot less than they used to be.

This is the context in which I see the talk of microaggression and privilege more generally. I do not deny that microaggressions are real. I simply question whether they are really so important as to justify the fuss. When we can afford to spend so much energy worrying about nuances of language and how much space people occupy, it’s probably because we’ve made significant progress on the much bigger and far more dangerous problems. And living in a society in which that is true is the invisible privilege of those who think they are the constantly microaggressed against victims of the privilege of others.