Hip-Hop and Philosophy

Some lyrics seem to encourage women to talk about what they want from their sexual partners. Female hip-hop artists like Lil’ Kim and Missy tell women to embrace their own sexuality, and to acknowledge their desires and sexual preferences. In “One Minute Man,” Missy talks about wanting sex to last when she says, “I don’t want, I don’t need, I can’t stand no minute man / I don’t want no minute man.”¹⁵³ Some hip-hop music also encourages people to regard black women’s bodies as normal, healthy, and desirable. Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” (Mack Daddy) might make some women feel good about the shape of their bodies.

Artists such as MC Lyte, Lauryn Hill, Medusa, and Eve urge women to take charge of their lives. And some female artists critique their male counterparts for objectifying black women and failing to take on real issues. Here’s Ms. Dynamite from the song “It Takes More”: “The shit that you promote: Fighting, fuckin’ / Like you don’t want to grow / You’re talking so much sex / But you not tell the youth ’bout AIDS.”¹⁵⁴

In addition to challenging the agendas of male rappers, female rappers challenge conceptions of what women are or can do. Queen Latifah rhymes in “Ladies First”:

Sloppy slouching is something I won’t do
Some think that we can’t flow (can’t flow)
Stereotypes, they got to go (got to go)
I’m a mess around and flip the scene into reverse.¹⁵⁵

But on the face of it, some rappers endorse violence against women. The N.W.A. song “One Less Bitch” tells the story of a “perfect ho” who got out of line and so had to go:

Now listen up and lemme tell you how I did it, yo. I tied her to the bed
I was thinking the worst but yo I had to let my niggaz fuck her first
Yeah, loaded up the 44, yo, then I straight smoked the ho
’Cause I’m a real nigga, but I guess you figure, I was soft and she thank me.¹⁵⁶

Some people will say that the rappers are just entertainers. This defense is suggested by the title cut of N.W.A.’s Niggaz4life:

Bitch this, bitch that, Nigger this, nigger that
In the meanwhile my pockets are gettin’ fat
Gettin’ paid to say this shit here
Makin’ more in a week than a doctor makes in a year.¹⁵⁷

Sounds like N.W.A. are saying that they are just using their lyrics and skills to get rich. Another thing they might be saying is that this is just entertainment: people are entertained by violent movies, but the makers of violent movies aren’t telling them to go out and get violent.

But in “’Bout My Paper,” Foxy Brown raps, “This is real, it’s not entertainment.”¹⁵⁸ Foxy’s point might be that the things rappers do and say could have serious consequences. If these lyrics are harmful to women, then “I’m just an entertainer” might ring hollow. Similarly, if your lyrics have harmful consequences, “I just did it for the money” is hardly a defense: hit men don’t have it that easy.

That is, the only legitimate reason for interfering with your freedom is to stop you from harming someone else. In the philosophical literature, this principle is called “the harm principle.” The harm principle is Mill’s answer to the question of how to balance individual freedom of expression with what he called “social control.” If we were to ask Mill about hip hop, he would say that, for example, the fact that an artist’s work is obscene is not a good enough reason to limit the artist’s freedom of expression: the only reason good enough is that someone gets hurt.¹⁶⁰ For example, power could be rightfully exercised over an individual who yells “fire!” in a crowded theater when there is no fire; the panic that results could hurt people, and this provides legitimate grounds for punishment. But punishment could not, according to Mill’s principle, be inflicted on an artist because his lyrics offend people. Unless the controversial lyrics actually harm people—as in the “fire!” example—the artist’s freedom of expression should not be limited.

Let’s look at some examples of lyrics that might cause harm to women by perpetuating or encouraging violence against them. Here’s Ultramagnetic MC’s: “Switch up, Change my pitch up / Smack my bitch up, like a pimp.”¹⁶¹ In hip-hop culture, rappers have authority about style, what you ought to have, and how you ought to act, and they often compare themselves to pimps (for instance Ice-T, Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Lil Jon, Twista) in order to establish this authority. Their lyrics—like the lyrics of “Give the Drummer Some”—seem to endorse smacking your bitch up: it seems like they are saying that men are pimps, women are hos, and that if the ho is confused about this, you should hit her until she gets it.

These lyrics from “Can You Control Yo’ Ho?” by Snoop Dogg (featuring Soopafly) also seem to say that you ought to keep a woman in line, and the way to do it is to hit her:

You should have slapped her in her face
I wanted to tell you but it wasn’t my place
I kept it on the low
’Cause I know you was gonna check that ho.¹⁶²

But it’s one thing to say that these lyrics seem to endorse being a pimp, or to tell you that you should act violently toward women; it’s another to say that they actually cause that violence. In a recent Vibe article, “Love Hurts: Rap’s Black Eye,” Lisa Mendez Berry gives many examples in which hip-hop artists commit violence against women.¹⁶³ She also points out that murder by a romantic partner is a leading cause of death among African American women; that many young women think that when their partners beat them, that’s an expression of care or that they deserve to be beaten. She says that many women who have spoken out against their abusers have gotten little or no support from the hip-hop community. For example, Liza Rios was allegedly beaten by her husband Big Pun. But when she spoke about it after his death, many people responded by saying that she had been unfaithful, and so deserved it.

Yet none of this shows that the controversial lyrics actually cause harm to women. Big Pun might have beat up Liza Rios, but to say that a rapper harmed Rios is not to say she was harmed by rap. Further, the Big Pun example is problematic. Big Pun was the author of violent lyrics, so it seems implausible that violent lyrics caused his alleged violent tendencies, rather than the other way around. If a case can be made that violent lyrics cause violence, then a better example would be a consumer, rather than a writer, of those lyrics. So our question remains: to what extent do hip-hop lyrics depicting violence cause real violence?

The claim that hip-hop lyrics cause violence against women is a causal claim, like the claim that smoking causes cancer. Causation has been a hot topic in philosophy since the ancient Greeks, but the person who has had the most influence on contemporary discussions is the eighteenth century Scottish philosopher David Hume (1711–1776). To say very much either about causation or about Hume’s philosophy would take us away from our topic, but it will help to look at what Hume said about causation. In An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (1748), Hume offers this analysis of causation: one thing causes another “where, if the first object had not been, the second never had existed.”¹⁶⁴ In other words, causation involves a relationship in which the effect depends on the cause: if the cause had not happened, the effect would not have happened. For example, consider the claim that Derek Fisher’s shot caused the Lakers to win 74–73 against the Spurs in the 2004 Western Conference Finals. Hume would say that what makes that true is that if Fisher hadn’t thrown the ball, the Lakers wouldn’t have won.

Most philosophers today agree that Hume’s analysis fails to provide a necessary condition for causation: they think that A could cause B even if B would have happened anyway. To see why, let’s change our example slightly. Imagine that when Fisher shot the ball, there were still two seconds left on the clock, and that Shaq was perfectly positioned in the paint. So if Fisher had missed, Shaq would have slammed the rebound down (with one hand!) and the Lakers would have won, 74–73. In this case, it’s still true that Fisher’s shot caused the Lakers to win, even though, had he missed, they would’ve won anyway. So it seems pretty clear that one thing (like Fisher’s shot) can cause another (like the victory), even though the second thing would still have happened had the first thing “missed.”

Even though Hume’s analysis doesn’t provide a necessary condition for causation, we can still use it as a kind of first-pass test for causation: would, for example, Big Pun still have been abusive even if he hadn’t been a rapper or a fan of hip-hop music? The answer is that we don’t know. Of course violence toward women is not something that hip hop created. And while it’s possible that controversial hip-hop lyrics contribute to violence against women, causal claims connecting the portrayal of violence toward women with actual violence toward women are difficult to establish. Furthermore, causal claims are empirical claims—claims that can’t be settled by philosophizing, but can only be settled by an actual investigation into why particular acts of violence against women happen. It’s not a question that we can settle a priori—just by engaging in philosophical analysis of concepts, or arguments, from the armchair.

They’re thinking that words and pictures can do things. The twentieth century English philosopher J.L. Austin (1911–1960) is famous for paying attention to how language is used, and to the fact that words are tools we can use to perform a wide variety of acts. His book, How to Do Things with Words,¹⁶⁵ gives lots of examples: a priest who says, “I now pronounce you man and wife,” in the right circumstances, doesn’t just cause people to be married; his saying “I now pronounce you man and wife” marries them. When a cop says, “you’re under arrest,” he doesn’t just cause you to be arrested, he arrests you.

Austin calls utterances that don’t just cause things but also do things illocutionary acts. And some philosophers say that one of the things you can do with words—one of the illocutionary acts you can perform—is to subordinate someone. The philosopher Rae Langton gives the following example in her paper “Speech Acts and Unspeakable Acts”: a Pretorian legislator makes it illegal for blacks to vote by saying “blacks are not permitted to vote.” That utterance, she says, subordinates blacks.¹⁶⁶ Another example is the utterance “Whites only” uttered by a store owner; that too subordinates blacks.

Going back to pornography, Langton thinks that sexual violence against women is an aspect of their subordinate status in society. She says that just as the South African legislator ranks certain people as inferior and deprives them of rights, violent pornography ranks women as sex objects and legitimizes sexual violence against them.

But here’s an objection to Langton’s claim that pornography subordinates: certain illocutionary acts require authority. For example, in a game of cops and robbers, I could say “you’re under arrest,” but I’m not a cop, so I can’t actually arrest you. In addition, uttering the sentence “blacks are not permitted to vote” only subordinates if uttered in the right context, by a person with the right kind of authority. Given this point about authority, it may seem like a bit of a stretch to claim that pornography subordinates. As Langton points out, whether it does depends on whether the pornographer has the right kind of authority; in particular on

whether [pornography] is authoritative in the domain that counts—the domain of speech about sex—and whether it is authoritative for the hearers that count: people, men, boys, who in addition to wanting “entertainment,” want to discover the right way to do things, want to know which moves in the sexual game are legitimate.¹⁶⁷

Many philosophers have thought that pornography does not subordinate women because pornographers don’t have the authority to make women mere sex objects. Pornographers can, through pictures and words, make claims about what moves in the sexual game are legitimate, but they don’t have the power to to legitimize those moves. For example, a pornographer could, through pictures or words, make the claim that raping a woman is a legitimate move in the sexual game. But he doesn’t have the power to legitimize rape.

Back to the lyrics: arguably, rappers are more authoritative for their listeners than pornographers are for their viewers. There are many other areas concerning style, speech, lifestyle, and value in which they are authoritative. Further, rappers seem to play an authoritative role in defining male gender identity: Some young men or boys who want to emulate rappers will emulate pimps, because the rappers define their own gender identity in terms of pimping. Because rappers are authoritative in all of these domains, there is a reason to take them as authoritative about women: they are authoritative about other cultural matters and other cultural norms. By contrast, pornographers have few, if any, credentials in other domains.

Further, with respect to what pornographers say about women—that, for example, we want to be raped—there is an independent fact of the matter. We’re sex objects, according to pornography, in part because all we really want is sex. But it just isn’t true that all we really want is sex.

By contrast, hip hop’s claims about women are more plausibly authoritative because the rapper is saying what is authentic or cool, and it is less clear that there is an independent fact of the matter about that. Rappers play an important role in deciding what’s authentic or cool, so the rapper who says “smack up your bitch” might be able to make that the thing to do in the same way that he can make ice the thing to wear, or Cristal the beverage of choice.

Although there has been a lot of philosophical discussion about whether pornography subordinates women, as far as we know, there isn’t any about whether there are aspects of hip-hop culture that subordinate women. But if Langton’s argument is going to work against anything, it will work against aspects of hip-hop culture, because the rappers who rap in favor of violence against women are more authoritative than are pornographers. We leave it to you to think about whether the argument presented here, that some aspects of hip-hop culture subordinate women, is actually sound.

This view is called utilitarianism. To clarify: when Mill says “to promote happiness,” he doesn’t just mean your happiness: he says, “as between his own happiness and that of others, utilitarianism requires [a person] to be as strictly impartial as a disinterested benevolent spectator”—meaning that what makes an action right or wrong is whether it promotes general happiness, that is, happiness for the greatest number. For example, suppose you have some extra money, and you could either use it to go on vacation or to help a local charity for inner-city kids. If giving it to the charity would make more people better off, then that’s what you should do, even if it will make you less happy. Mill thinks morality is about happiness because he thinks happiness is what we desire as an end in itself, rather than as a mere means. In other words, we want happiness just because of what it is, not because it will help us get something else. Unlike money: you want money as a means to getting other stuff—like a ride, or a college education for your kids, or independence from your parents—not as an end in itself.

Yet many philosophers reject utilitarianism. Some object that utilitarianism is too demanding: asking you to always think of others is asking too much. Others object that if utilitarianism were true, we wouldn’t know what we should do, because we don’t know what would make the most people the best off. But the main objection—the most serious one—is this: if utilitarianism were true, then morality could sometimes require us to do things that are, clearly, just wrong. It could turn out, for example, that the way to make the most people happiest is to beat down a crackhead for a crime he didn’t commit: if the angry mob is threatening to go on a violent rampage unless someone pays, then we could make the most people the best off by scapegoating someone who is regarded as useless anyway. Beating down an innocent man for a crime he didn’t commit is clearly wrong, but utilitarianism says that sometimes it’s the right thing—the morally right thing—to do. So utilitarianism doesn’t seem to leave room for the fact that we could be made much happier as a result of some moral crime.

So maybe utilitarianism can’t be the right story about morality. The main alternative is the Kantian theory, which says morality is all about respect. For Kant, respecting people basically means not using them. And you can see how someone who rejected utilitarianism for the reason just explained might be drawn to this alternative: ultimately, what’s wrong with utilitarianism is that it tells us to respect people only when doing so maximizes happiness. But when we can maximize happiness by using someone—as in the case of the angry mob and the crackhead—utilitarianism tells us to go for it.

We already talked about the difference between means and ends, when we said we want happiness as an end in itself, whereas we want money as a means to getting something else. The Kantian says that you can’t treat people like you treat money: you can’t treat them as a mere means to getting something else. Here’s one way Kant puts it:

Kingdom of Ends: Act so that you treat people as ends, and never mere means.

That’s not exactly right: after all, when you go to the movies, you use the ticket-taker to gain admission. You’re not interested in the ticket-taker as an end in herself. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong with using a friend for a ride, when the friend thinks you called because you like her. The difference is that the ticket-taker consents to being used in the way that you are using her, whereas the friend does not; she doesn’t even realize she is being used. The idea, then, is that you can’t use people in ways that they would not agree to being used, if they knew what was going on.

We’ve been asking whether some rappers are wrong to rap about women in the way that they do, and if so, why. When it comes to the question of what makes actions right and wrong, we said there are two main camps: the utilitarians, who say that whether an act is right or wrong depends on its consequences, and the Kantians, who say that whether an act is right or wrong depends on respect. According to the Kantians, if you’re disrespecting people, then you’re acting immorally.

Hip hop might be wrong on utilitarian grounds: if the empirical claim that hip-hop lyrics make women worse off than they would have been in the absence of those lyrics is true, then according to utilitarianism, writing and performing those lyrics is wrong. But from the Kantian perspective, we don’t have to figure that out: we just have to figure out whether the lyrics disrespect women.

If any lyrics disrespect women, these from 50 Cent’s “P.I.M.P” look like good candidates: “Man this ho, you can have her / When I’m done I ain’t gon’ keep her.”¹⁶⁹ And these, from Lil Jon & the East Side Boyz:

Back in the days I used to like bitches
But I tell you now days bitches ain’t shit (tell ‘em) . . .
I get so mad that I could slap her actin’ like she Cleopatra
Ain’t no need to ask, she’s a slave to the money and I’m the
master.¹⁷⁰

Women are referred to as bitches and slaves to the money worth no respect. They deserve to be treated like commodities you can use to get money, rather than as ends in themselves. It could be argued that rapping about women this way amounts to regarding them as outside the kingdom of ends.

Further, if rappers really do have authority in the hip-hop community and beyond, then if they regard women as mere means, this could influence the youth for whom rappers are authoritative: it could make them think that the right way to treat women is as mere means.

Hatin’ on Hip Hop?

Dangerous Mouths: Causing Harm

Wud U Say? Doing Things with Words

Not Your Ho, Not Your Freak, and Tired of You Disrespecting Me

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