In discussing race relations or feminism my students often say that things are getting better, frequently as a preface (e.g. “Even though race relations have improved, we must still … ”). It is a general assumption that U.S. social history is a story of progress. There are temporary setbacks, but the trajectory is upward: We are better today than yesterday, will be better tomorrow than today.

The notion of “progress” has been on my mind since Nov. 5, the day after Obama was elected and California voters passed Proposition 8, which states that “[o]nly marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in” — not “by?” — “California.” The election of a black man to the presidency represents progress primarily in psychic terms. A handful of black Americans will benefit immediately from the election, mostly those who will secure positions in the Obama administration, but the lives of poor black Americans and the challenges they face did not change on Nov. 4.

The passage of Prop. 8, on the other hand, represents change — progress or not depending on the view — in personal terms: One day members of the same sex could go down to City Hall and get a marriage license and the next they could not. Among gay rights activists, the passage of similar legislation in Florida and Arizona was seen as a foregone conclusion. But California was worth fighting for, both because the outcome was uncertain and because California is viewed as a bellwether for the course of the nation.

Part of the upset is that gay rights activists had assumed California was on their side, that an “enlightened,” educated and wealthy state — in the parlance of Northeastern snobbery, a place that “matters” — should vote to support gay rights. There is a collective sense of betrayal, a post-game “what happened?” After the result, some supporters of the measure were quick to point out that blacks and Hispanics had voted disproportionately in favor of it, a gloat intended to needle gay rights activists about the fact that even their typically liberal-voting comrades had secured the measure’s passage.

The fear is that this development shows us that the tide is turning against us and that perhaps there is no guarantee that things inevitably move forward.

Prop. 8 is certainly a disappointment and poses obstacles to those of us who support gay rights. But there is less to worry about than many fear. While marriage equality for gays and lesbians is by no means a guarantee, the success of gay rights has in many ways already been written.

I doubt the Platonic idea that we resemble some ideal human society more as time goes on. Despite the rhetoric of gay rights activists and religious conservatives, political battles are not in reality showdowns between proponents and opponents of “progress”; they are the mechanism that defines it. It is not that we are, by some objective measure, better today than yesterday, but that circumstances change to reflect the prevailing view of what is best.

Gay rights activists have the narrative on their side and have largely won the battle of defining terms. Media commentators refer to “gay rights” and draw parallels to the Civil Rights Movement, also construed as a progressive movement. Even conservative commentators comment on how California voters — as liberal as they are — are not “ready” to accept gay marriage, the implication being that gay marriage is an eventuality to which one must become accustomed.

Opponents of gay marriage and “don’t ask, don’t tell” cite practical concerns or personal religious beliefs to explain their position; at Cornell, conservative commentators feign sensitivity when they voice concern that some might be “offended” by first-year orientation discussions about tolerance of gays and lesbians. In short, opposition to gay rights is expressed in terms of the liberal language of inclusion and sensitivity. Some religious conservatives claim parity with other oppressed groups (e.g. the “War on Christmas”).

There is of course the grand story about a society in moral decline — one that, even in the absence of immediate repercussions, will surely face God’s wrath. But it is difficult to ground this argument for practical debate (just look what happened when some religious conservatives blamed Hurricane Katrina on abortion). And after all, the stars have not fallen from the sky in Massachusetts.

One of the enduring mistakes of the Republican Party is its strategy — in an ill-conceived attempt to brand itself as populist — of alienating educated voters, the young and immigrants. By creating a dichotomy between “real,” pro-America parts of the country and out-of-touch, Ivy League urban enclaves, Republicans have succeeded in making liberal ideology synonymous with wealth, education, inclusion and the cosmopolitan. This worked in the past two elections, but long term, the nation’s changing demographics doom this approach.

So while it is not the case that things inevitably get better and that history tends toward “progress,” we have momentum on our side.

Gabriel Arana is a graduate student in linguistics. He can be reached at garana@cornellsun.com. The Red Line usually appears alternate Fridays.