Tolerance: Not My Favorite Virtue

I was involved in a conversation recently about the word "tolerance."  My friend was explaining that, for her, tolerance is an essential element of being a good person, a trait which she was working on developing and improving. I must have paused, or pulled a face, or even gasped because she stopped and asked what I thought.

I told her that I struggle with the idea of tolerance, that inherent in its definition is the concept of superiority. If you tolerate someone or something, you merely put up with them or it. I tolerate freezing temperatures. I tolerate flies (okay, maybe not, since during fly season I have a fly-swatter almost permanently attached to my hand). I tolerate (at least for a short time) messes in my home that are made by other people. I tolerate loud chewing (this, admittedly, is more difficult for me and sometimes I tolerate loud chewing by leaving the room which might not actually qualify as tolerance). I don't, though, claim to tolerate people--unless, of course, something about them bothers me and I am merely putting up with their presence--but that notion doesn't seem to be a trait for which to aspire. I often feel guilt when I feel like I'm tolerating someone, and then I overcompensate with kindness. Tolerance, to me, is not a characteristic of a good person. It is rather a natural part of the human condition and in some ways requisite to survival--at least sane survival. How else would I survive freezing winters, fly-filled summers, messy rooms, and noisy eaters?

Nevertheless, people use the term regularly and generally as a positive, aspirational attribute. They tolerate others--those who believe differently, those who make choices they themselves wouldn't make, those who don't conform or live up to certain beliefs of expectations. In essence, they put up with them. Most assuredly, they judge them. Tolerance, used this way, separates people into dichotomous groups: us/them, good/bad, acceptable/unacceptable. What (and where) is the good in that?

I told my friend that I believe we misuse the term. What we usually mean when we speak of tolerance is love. Truly good people love others. They love others despite their differences. There is no us and them, only us. No judgement. No tolerance. Just love. Surely love is an essential, perhaps paramount, attribute of good people and something to which I aspire. She agreed--or at least tolerated my rant.