Do As You Will

Don't listen to all the nonsense — if you want to boo, just boo.

Is anyone here a professor of moral philosophy? It’s just a question, not a joke about that viral Twitter template about a doctor on a plane. “Is anyone here a professor of moral philosophy? This man is dying, and he needs an analysis of the utilitarian fallacy!” I don’t think I have any experts in the field on my email list, so the question is probably rhetorical. On the other hand, I’m looking for someone to talk to about booing, and I’d very much like that person to be a professor of moral philosophy, so if it turns out that it’s not rhetorical, I’d love to know that as well. 

The first rule in journalism — well, one of the rules, anyway; they can’t all be “the first rule,” but it’s still an important one — is that you don’t ask sources questions they’re not qualified to answer. You get your information from people who know what that information actually is. If I wanted to know what it was like to face a 98-mile-per-hour fastball, I would ask an MLB hitter. If I wanted to know how it felt to block a fastball in the dirt, I would ask James McCann. If I wanted to know what it was like to pitch really well but be insufferable and annoying, I would ask Trevor Bauer.

There’s a converse to this, of course: if you don’t know what you’re talking about, you can’t provide much information. So unless you’re a moral philosopher, there’s not much you can tell me about booing that’s going to change my stance. Actually, there aren’t many moral philosophers these days — that’s just a fact, not something sadly muttered by the protagonist of my literary dystopian novel — so I’ll widen my criteria. You don’t need to be a professor of moral philosophy to make an argument about booing, but you do, at least, need to make some sort of moral argument.

The reason booing is on my mind, of course, is that Mets fans are doing it to Mets players, not entirely without reason. The Mets, since starting the season 7-4, have gone 2-6, and got swept by both the Cubs and the Red Sox. Now fans are upset, and of course, everyone wants to talk about it. So Twitter is suffused with people arguing about the morality of booing. Doesn’t that sound exciting?

I say “arguing about the morality of booing;” actually, that’s charitable. Mostly, what people are doing is either A) making half-baked non-moral cases about booing, or B) saying things that aren’t actually arguments. 

On the weird practical side, you’ve got people attempting to claim that booing somehow does the Mets concrete harm. It inhibits Francisco Lindor’s performance; it will convince Michael Conforto to leave; it’s somehow making the entire team worse. I’m not sure exactly how that could be: if booing was the difference between a good Mets team and a bad one, they were never that good to begin with. Plus, players have been booed before, and most of them came out just fine. It’s sort of surreal to watch people, in the same breath, say “Mets fans are ridiculous! They booed Piazza, now Lindor? How stupid!” and “booing Lindor/Conforto/Smith/whoever will prevent him from getting back on track.” Mets fans booed Piazza, I’m told; he was fine. Lindor will be too.

The other arguments you see, though, are worse. They’re the ones that attempt to make a moral case, but actually aren’t a case at all. “Don’t boo Francisco Lindor!” someone will shout. “He’s going to be our shortstop for 11 years! Don’t boo Michael Conforto! He’s a veteran leader!”

These aren’t, of course, actual reasons not to boo people. There’s a premise and a conclusion, but there’s nothing to tie them together. It’s like saying “You can’t drive a Volkswagen; my grandfather was a podiatrist!”

Here’s my position: boo if you want. In sports, there’s a huge disconnect between the sensible and the emotional, and booing is the perfect way to express that. A few boos are the best possible way to let out your dissatisfaction while not actually making any emotionally-charged, senseless moves. Better to boo for a moment than to yell endlessly about how the Mets need to fire their hitting coach. 

Booing, fans and players alike know, isn’t some irredeemable judgement on character; it’s a momentary release of frustration. Booing Francisco Lindor today doesn’t mean he’ll be bad forever. It means he’s been frustrating. The Mets and Lindor will be fine, but sports are emotional territory, and booing is as harmless a way as any to let that negative emotion out. You don’t need to take my word for it; boo if you feel like it, or don’t. Do whatever you want. I’m not a professor of moral philosophy.