Even the most well-meaning and charitable critiques are not embraced by moral universalists—they don't believe they can possibly be wrong about anything.
Just ask them if they've been wrong about something of substance recently that negatively affected others—they rather walk away or block you than even entertain the possibility of being wrong.
The moral universalists don't see defunding poor Africans as deranged. In their minds they believe this is good. The reason there is so much derision and contempt online and in real life is because these people are fundamentally impervious to reason.
It's not a misunderstanding—they literally elevate race and sexual orientation above all else. They genuinely view excluding the out-group as positive, and for them to imagine a perspective in which they are mistaken is inconceivable.
Our only saving grace is this pathological ideology is hostile to intelligence and meritocracy.
I laugh at your description of my point of view as hostile to intelligence. I see the simplicity which you fail to grasp.
On one hand, African devs should be supported. On the other hand, holding a conference in a specific country means some participants will risk arrest by an hostile government. Simply not going to that country, and going to another neighbouring African nation means everyone can feel safe. Problem easily solved, but in your worldview listening to gay people is hostile to intelligence. How ... ancient.
By refusing to hold the conference in Tanzania, the organizers aren't just sending a message to the government; they're effectively punishing the entire Tanzanian populace. The vast majority of citizens, who neither crafted these laws nor have the power to change them, are deprived of the opportunities such an event would bring—educational advancement, economic benefits, cultural exchange. It's a form of collective punishment that mirrors the very oppression it claims to oppose.
Your approach operates on a simplistic moral binary, failing to recognize the complex socio-political fabric of nations. It assumes that by isolating a country, one can coerce it into moral compliance. History tells us otherwise. Isolation often entrenches regimes, hardens attitudes, and exacerbates suffering among the general population.
Moreover, there's an ironic arrogance in this stance. It presumes that external actors have the moral authority—and the practical ability—to enforce change through deprivation. It's a performative gesture that achieves little beyond self-congratulatory validation for those making the decision. Meanwhile, the marginalized groups within Tanzania receive no tangible benefit; in fact, they may find themselves in an even more precarious position due to reduced international engagement.
Furthermore, it's striking how obsessively fixated some are on this minority group, to the point where any notion of compromise becomes inconceivable. Your reactionary stance is so inflexible that you can't even entertain the idea that perhaps speakers outside this minority could present at the conference, thus navigating around any legal complications. Unless, of course, you're implicitly admitting that the majority of potential contributors belong to this minority. If that's the case, fine—but let's be transparent about it.
This one-dimensional focus reveals a deeper issue: an inability to see beyond a singular narrative, even when it results in counterproductive outcomes. By refusing to adapt, you not only hinder the event but also undermine opportunities for the broader community. It's a self-defeating approach that sacrifices practical progress on the altar of ideological purity. If the aim is truly to foster growth, education, and positive change, then rigid adherence to such a narrow perspective serves no one—not the minority in question, nor the wider population yearning for advancement.
