Is it ethical to move from a red state to a blue state?

Your mileage may vary is an advice column that provides you with a unique framework for thinking about your ethical dilemmas. it is based on value diversification —We each have multiple equally valid but often conflicting values. To submit a question, please fill out this anonymous form. Here’s a question from a reader this week, condensed and edited for clarity:

I am considering moving my family from a red state to a blue state. I’ve lived in red my whole life, and as a lesbian with a wonderful trans wife, it’s hard. Moving to a blue state would provide my wife and I with better nondiscrimination protections, better worker protections, and better access to health care.

However, I felt that moving would mean giving up the good fight of my hometown. I’m well aware of how the exodus from red states and the brain drain from red states has impacted our communities. It’s hard to weigh what’s best for my wife versus what’s best for our fellow red staters.

My dear, should I stay or should I go?

I feel your problem deeply. Not long ago, I decided to move from the United States to my native Canada with my partner. We are also an odd couple. We solved many of the same problems you’re struggling with right now.

Is it selfish to leave? If you leave, will you put the well-being of your own family ahead of the well-being of the wider community? Does this mean you are violating your values?

Some key philosophical ideas really helped me solve these problems, so I’ll walk you through them. Whether you agree or disagree, they should clarify the terms in a way that makes your decision easier.

Let’s start with your concern, which is how to weigh what’s best for your wife versus what’s best for your broader community.

One idea in modern philosophy—promoted by utilitarians like Peter Singer—is that we should aim to maximize the overall good, which means doing good things impartially rather than prioritizing certain people just because they happen to be the people closest to us. This perspective has become so influential over the past century that it’s probably shaping your thinking here, even if you’re not explicitly aware of it.

But I want you to know that other philosophers have objected. Bernard Williams, a staunch critic of utilitarianism, argued that utilitarianism was actually perfectly normal and It is morally appropriate to show preference for those we love.

In a famous essay, Williams said that if a man sees two people drowning, one of them his wife and the other a stranger, and he stops to consider whether saving his wife would maximize the overall good more than saving the stranger, then he is “overthinking.”

Moral agency, Williams argued, does not exist in a contextless vacuum—it is always the agency of a particular person, and as particular persons we have particular commitments. When you are with your wife, you commit to ensuring her well-being, which goes beyond your overall desire for the well-being of all people everywhere. Utilitarianism says you must consider everyone’s welfare equally, with no special treatment for your own family—but to Williams, that’s just an absurd requirement. It alienates you from a core part of yourself and undermines your integrity as a moral agent.

According to this view, putting your wife’s safety first is not a moral lapse that should embarrass you. Fulfilling special obligations to those closest to us is actually part of the ethics of life.

Furthermore, while living an ethical life does sometimes require sacrificing some of our own well-being, it is important to recognize that everyone has different levels of vulnerability. We should not expect trans people to bear the same level of risk as people who are not particularly marginalized or endangered.

Given the attacks on trans rights in recent years, I’m skeptical of those who try to argue that you and your wife have a moral obligation to stay put and “fight for justice” if she is happier and safer elsewhere. Please note that I also want to remind you to consider all Factors that influence a happy life before you make the decision to move. If your wife has a strong and loving community of friends in your current red state but knows no one in the blue state you’re considering moving to, she’s probably going to be unhappy there overall. (Also, as the recent midterm elections showed, red states don’t necessarily stay red, and even blue states can pass anti-trans rights ballot measures.)

I also think a larger refactoring is needed here. You say, “I feel like moving means giving up the wonderful struggles of my hometown.” But is that really the case? I think the key consideration is: Where can you sustain the fight the longest? The hardest? Most effective?

The work of contemporary philosopher Lisa Tesman is instructive here. in her book The virtue of carrying weightShe argued that situations of oppression may require people to possess certain traits—such as persistent anger at injustice, fierce loyalty to one’s own group, constant vigilance and sensitivity to the suffering of others—that may be detrimental to the person who embodies them, even though they are genuine virtues. Over time, these characteristics can harm the well-being of the bearers and prevent them from flourishing. What’s more, they may even distort the moral character of their bearer – for example, when anger reaches an all-consuming state.

You said that you have lived in a red state your whole life and had a hard time. So I think it’s worth asking yourself: Do the traits you have to develop in this situation – no matter how wonderful they are – actually diminish your ability to continue to perform in the way you want to, both for yourself and for your wider community? If you feel like the constant vigilance is starting to take its toll, moving may give you a mental reset that allows you to be more — not less — active in living your values.

Plus, a quick look at the history can dispel the idea that leaving a place means “giving up the good fight.” Think about what happened during the Great Migration, the flight of black Americans from the Jim Crow South. Have those immigrants “given up the good struggle”? Absolutely not. Once arriving in the North and West, they established political power and institutions that ultimately promoted and supported the Civil Rights Movement.

The problem isn’t that the two situations are exactly similar – they’re not. The point is that when people move away from a place, they can choose to use the affordances of their new home to help their old home. So while concerns about red state exodus and red state brain drain are completely understandable, I don’t think they determine the question of whether this move is a net negative or a net positive for the broader community.

What will Decide that this is what you choose to do with your newfound resources—including, plausibly, an increased sense of safety, security, and mental health if you relocate.

Life can get busy quickly, especially after a major move. (I should know—a few months after moving, I still haven’t gotten around to putting any art on the walls!) So here’s what I highly recommend if you move away from your hometown: Make a plan ahead of time for how you will continue to fight for justice once you arrive at your new destination. Will you organize remotely? Now can you contact the relevant leaders of the red country groups you want to support? Which organizations will you donate to, how much, and when?

To increase accountability and prevent task drift, be as specific as possible, discuss your plans out loud with your wife, and write them down.

And once you’ve done all this? My dear, let go of your guilt and live a good life.

Bonus: What I’m Reading