“Are those of us who express views that offend others now responsible for the actions of the offended?” (Sherry Jones, Publishing Perspectives, 8.21.09, responding to decision by Yale University Press to exclude controversial editorial cartoons caricaturing the Prophet Mohammed in a book about said controversy)

No one is ready and willing to defend the right to free speech more than I am. However, this statement by Ms. Jones is, to me, a prime example of when commitment to a principal not only steps outside the boundaries of common sense but suggests a certain lack of good manners with regard to the feelings of others.

You see, my response to that rhetorical question is: Yes, we most certainly are, if we know that response could result in harm to others. I have historical precedent for that statement.

It’s said that Henry II, frustrated beyond reason by opposition from his former friend the Archbishop of Canterbury, muttered within earshot of some of his men “Will no one relieve me of this troublesome priest?” Happy to oblige, they promptly stabbed Thomas a Becket before the altar of Canterbury Cathedral.

History also records that Henry accepted a humiliating penance, taking full responsibility for the death of Becket. Whether or not he actually believed he deserved to be punished only he knows. However, the point is made: we are, indeed, responsible for what we say or write if it results in someone being hurt or killed.

Yale Press made its decision after consulting both publishing and security experts, and chose not to republish the cartoons in the book in question because they were concerned, and for good reason, that doing so could incite violence. There was, in fact, violence engendered when the drawings first appeared as well as during the heated debate that followed over whether they should have been printed in the first place, given the current global political situation. Some time later, a major publisher chose to cancel publication of an equally controversial historical novel by Ms. Jones in which the wife of Mohammed was portrayed in a way those same devout Muslims would have found offensive.

Both times, the give-me-free-speech-or-give-me-death contingent screamed foul, and defended the position that choosing not to publish something that is established would offend a particular group is censorship and nothing short of cowardice.

This is the response of people safely ensconced in a country where sudden death at the hands of a suicide bomber isn’t a daily occurrence. It’s an intellectual argument that refuses to take the reality of our modern world into consideration despite the sharp image of the Twin Towers crumbling into dust.

Would these same people leave a bottle of sleeping pills where a suicidal person would be sure to find them? That’s different, you say? Not really.

To a devout Muslim, an image of the Prophet is blasphemy. It is to them no different than painting a swastika on a synagogue or performing a black mass in a church. To use that image in the way it was done in the Danish cartoons is so offensive there are no words adequate to describe it. What can possibly be served, then, by deliberately reproducing them many thousand times more than they already have been?

Censorship is a terrible thing. However, the word and the concept are diluted and cheapened when they are applied indiscriminately and without regard to the fact we are, in fact, responsible for what results from what we say and write. Yale University Press has decided there’s nothing to be gained by offending millions of people yet again and, perhaps, more to lose than they wish to be responsible for.

Where I come from, that’s called courtesy, not censorship.

Ms. Jones cites the support of Peter Mayer for Salmon Rushdie's The Satanic Verses and the fatwa issued by the Ayatollah Khomeini. Apparently, the fact an innocent person--the book's Japanese translator--was killed for that decision, which it should be noted he had no choice in making, is mere collateral damage, as were injuries suffered by others for the cause. That kind of total disregard for the human factor in order to proclaim one's commitment to a principal is fine.

Principles are important. Sometimes, they're more important than people. However, the people they're more important than should have the right to choose whether they want to sacrifice themselves for the cause. The cemeteries and mass graves of the world are full of those caught in the crossfire when a battle over a principle exploded.

Sometimes, there is no choice. One has to defend free speech or some other inherent right without compromise. Choosing to publish or not publish a drawing, the absence of which in no way detracts from the content of the book that discusses it, doesn't fall into that category.