Category Archives: politics

Believing What I Think

Last week at the Republican National Convention, the Republicans nominated as their candidate for President of the United States a person so outside the norm, so iconoclastic in every way, that even the most experienced observers of American politics—insiders and outsiders alike—are scratching their heads. trumpHow did this happen? I suspect that it will take years for answers to fully develop, but there is one contributing factor that I have been hearing both through traditional and social media on a regular basis. Supporters of this candidate often say something along the lines of “He’s saying things that many of us have been thinking for years but have, for any number of reasons, not been able to say. He speaks for us.” Which raises the question—How much of what we believe to be true is simply a projection of what we want to be true? After all, as a bumper sticker I saw the other day insightfully pointed out, “You don’t have to believe everything you think.”believe

Fall classes begin in a few weeks and I have started planning my two sections of General Ethics in earnest. Over my twenty-five-plus years of teaching, ethics has always been my favorite course—because of administrative duties, then sabbatical, this will be the first time in five years that I have taught it. I chose several weeks ago to make the class as contemporary possible—with two exceptions, every assigned text was written within the past ten years. One of the exceptions will come early in the semester from one of my three or four favorite philosophers—Michel de Montaigne. massacre[1]Montaigne lived in a polarized religious world that reminds me strongly of our current equally polarized political situation. Sixteenth-century France was not a pretty place—in the aftermath of the Protestant Reformation, Christians were killing each other with regularity and abandon, all in the name of Christ. Catholics and Protestants each were certain that they were right; energized by such certainty, each was willing to kill the other in the name of truth and right belief. When I heard delegates in Cleveland last week regularly chanting that the soon-to-be-official nominee of the other major political party should be locked up or worse, I thought of Montaigne’s constant efforts to convince his readers that certainty and unwarranted conviction can be deadly.

In the second week of classes, my students and I will be working on perhaps Montaigne’s most famous essay—“On Cannibals.” Reflecting on the visit to France of several Brazilians from cannibal tribes, Montaigne notes that just as cultured Europeans of his day were appalled by various Brazilian tribal practices, so the visitors were just as confused and appalled by certain European cultural norms. michel-de-montaigne-006[1]Stepping back, Montaigne argues first that a stronger case for barbarism could be leveled against the Europeans than against the cannibals, then puts his finger on an issues that is remarkably relevant to our contemporary world.

We all call barbarous anything that is contrary to our own habits. Indeed, we seem to have no other criterion of truth and reason than the type and kind of opinions and customs current in the land where we live. There we always see the perfect religion, the perfect political system, the perfect and most accomplished way of doing everything.

Our own myopia and parochialisms are usually defined by something other than national borders, but Montaigne’s point is clearly as true now as it was in his day. We tend to believe that what we are most accustomed and used to is true, without ever wondering how we came to be accustomed and used to these things in the first place. We resonate most strongly with those who mirror back to us what we are already thinking.

Parochialism and attachment to what we think we know is not a problem exclusive to any particular set of beliefs or experiences. All of us, from conservative to progressive, from atheist to dedicated religious believer, assume that the way that we think is not only the epitome of common sense, but also the standard of reason well used. Yet as Adam Etinson, a contemporary commenter on Montaigne’s “On Cannibals” adam etinsonobserves,

Moral reasoning is generally something we use merely to convince others of long-held beliefs that we are unwilling to abandon . . . often, no amount of persuasive reasoning, clear argument or exposed contradiction can shake us from what we already believe.

Why are we so inclined to hang on to our most entrenched thoughts, even in the face of evidence that our most deeply held beliefs are rooted in anything but experiential evidence supported by logical reasoning?

The most obvious answer is that adopting the thoughts and beliefs of one’s culture and family is easy, while critically challenging one’s default settings and perhaps even changing them is hard work. Cultural centrism is evidence of both our intellectual laziness and our fallibility—the ever-present possibility that our beliefs might be wrong. One effective way that I have found to bring the randomness of our deepest convictions to light is to simply ask my students the following: “How many of you think that you would be a very different person today if you had been born in rural Tibet instead of where you were actually born?” All hands go up. “Why?” Because, as everyone knows, we are shaped early and often by features of our existence—our society, family, location, social status—that we do not choose. ethnocentrismYet we often wander unreflectively through life relying on these foundations that we did not choose, as if we had magically been given the universal truth about all important issues at birth. The fact that our deepest held beliefs would be different had we been born elsewhere on the planet (or even, sometimes, to different parents farther down the street) should disconcert us. In every course syllabus I include Spinoza’s observation that “I do not know how to teach philosophy without disturbing the peace.” The “What if you were born elsewhere?” exercise is one of the more effective peace disturbers in my teaching arsenal.

Of all the things I deeply believe, those that I have come to through challenging preconceptions and previously unchallenged assumptions are the ones that are now most definitive of who I am. All of us should regularly reexamine our beliefs and practices, become alert to weaknesses and inconsistencies in our own thinking, discover something plausible in another’s point of view and in so doing, become better than the parochial and myopic creatures that we naturally are. After all, none of us needs to believe everything that we think.

A Gnawing Suspicion

A mystic is anyone who has the gnawing suspicion that the apparent discord, brokenness, contradictions, and discontinuities that assault us every day might conceal a hidden unity. Lawrence Kushner

ebolaA while ago Jeanne and I were in the car listening to the hourly news update on NPR. As usual, they were trying to stuff as much horrible news as possible into a three-minute segment. Ebola, ISIS, Zika, Palestinians, Israel, Istanbul, Russia, illegal immigrants, racial discrimination— one of us said “they’re never going to figure this out.” I forget which of the above items the comment was referring to, but it could have been any of them. I know few people who are more naturally optimistic than I am, fergusonbut what evidence is there that we human beings are up to the challenge of solving our problems long-term in a sustainable way? The history of our species provides ample evidence to the contrary.

So what impact should this depressing and dour news have on a person not inclined toward cynicism or despair? I must admit that I would find it very difficult to avoid cynicism in general, overcome only by dogged attempts to make my little corner of the world a bit better on a daily basis, were it not that I am convinced that the often sad and grubby human story that is trumpeted at us 24/7 through multiple media outlets is not the only story in town. There’s something bigger going on. In other words, I believe in God. So sue me.

borg convictionsFor many the conversation stops right there. How on earth can an educated, relatively intelligent person with working senses possibly believe in the existence of God in the face of the massive evidence to the contrary that threatens to overwhelm us daily? Please note, though, that I said that I believe in God, not that I believe in the existence of God. This is a gradual, seismic internal shift that has been going on for a while, one that I have frequently taken note of in various ways during the almost-four years of this blog’s existence (and for a lot longer than that). KabbalahTwo short books, Marcus Borg’s Convictions and Lawrence Kushner’s Kabbalah: A Love Story, have crystallized this shift in unexpected ways. Let me explain.

The “does God exist?” question never had much philosophical interest for me (I don’t think any of the arguments designed to answer the question positively actually work very well); does god existover time I have lost interest in it just about entirely. The God whose existence is almost always in question is a being separate and distinct from the universe, a supreme being who created the universe a long time ago. This description usually goes on to add personality traits such as omnipotence, omniscience and omnibenevolence to God’s resume; God thus described is often imagined with authoritarian and parental attributes, with all of the positive and negative baggage accompanying. Marcus Borg calls belief in the existence of this being “Supernatural Theism.” For non-theists who deny the existence of God, it is almost always the God of Supernatural Theism whose existence is being denied; it is this God that is the target of the impassioned attacks of the “New Atheists.” supernatural theismBorg notes that when someone tells him that she or he does not believe in God, he “learned many years ago to respond, ‘Tell me about the God you don’t believe in.’ It was always the God of supernaturalism.” Borg professes that he stopped believing in that God when he was in his twenties (he passed away in his seventies about a year ago). I don’t believe in that God either.

It isn’t that I now believe in the existence of a divine being with a different resume. It’s rather than I think “does God exist?” is the wrong question. Because the issue of God for me is not existential—it’s not about whether there is another being out there in addition to the universe. The issue of God is experiential. Scripture says “taste and see that the Lord is good,” and tasting and seeing are not arguments, rationalizations or proofs. Borg describes the shift I have in mind well:

borgThere is a cloud of witnesses, Christian and non-Christian, for whom God, the sacred, is real, an element of experience, not a hypothetical being who may or may not exist and whom we can only believe in.

Both Borg and Kushner call this orientation “mysticism,” and both refer to experiences that might be described as “mystical” that helped bring them to this experiential conclusion. I’m not crazy about calling myself a “mystic” for a number of reasons, but I do resonate with Kushner’s definition at the beginning of this post, just as I resonate with Borg’s adjustment of what the word “God” refers to:

A theology that takes mystical experience seriously leads to a very different understanding of the referent of the word “God.” The word no longer refers to a being separate from the universe, but to a reality, a “more,” a radiant and luminous presence that permeates everything that is.

KushnerKushner refers to the “gnawing suspicion” that there is a hidden unity underlying all of the mess that we find ourselves in. “Suspicion” is a well-chosen term, because a reorientation from Supernatural Theism to Mystical Theism (as Borg calls it; Kushner calls it “mystical monism”) is difficult to talk about and impossible to provide convincing arguments for. Words fail me, although I keep trying to find them. More often than not I fall back on the evidence of a “changed life” and “come and see,” finding strength in the fact that those who have also experienced the sacred and have not just thought about it resonate with me on a level deeper than words. They just “know” what I am trying to convey.

Working out the implications of where this takes me on all sorts of issues is a continuing effort in these pages. Returning briefly to where I began, what might mystical theism say about the fractured and disjointed world in which we live? problem of evilTrying to square such a world with the God of Supernatural Theism gives rise to the problem of evil, perhaps the most intractable philosophical/ theological problem of all. But as Kushner suggests, there is a different orientation available.

If you are a mystic, saying you believe in God means that you have an abiding suspicion that everything is a manifestation of God, and no matter how horrific it might be, it is still, somehow, filled with holiness.

The only evidence for that is experiential, and even such experience is iffy and enigmatic. I have not had the “road to Damascus” sorts of experiences that have changed the lives of many. My reorientation has been more gradual, which for me means it is likely to have the permanence that a “once for all” experience might lack. 100_0331As I sat for many weeks in daily prayer with Benedictine monks several years ago, the reorientation began as I noticed a slow opening of peaceful spaces inside and a new way of seeing what is around me. This does not conflict with my intellect, my mind or my philosophy—it holds them in place. And when I run out of convincing words, I plan to remember this that I just read from Lawrence Kushner:

Why is it that you cannot simply tell someone a great religious truth without a whole rigmarole of questions and hints, allusions and mysteries? It is because that is the way God made the world.dostoyevsky

Random Midsummer Thoughts

After the most beautiful Rhode Island June–sunny and low eighties day after day–in my twenty-two years in RI, July is feeling more like a traditional southern New England summer. High eighties or low nineties and noticeable humidity, pushing me out the door early in the morning for my daily bike ride in order to avoid dropping five pounds of sweat. As I ride my bike, various random thoughts weave in and out of my brain.

The next time somebody tells me that they bought a $500 tablet on Ebay for $70, I’ll say “I guess that makes it a $70 tablet.”tablet I have many Facebook pet peeves. One of them is people who put up seventy-three pictures on Facebook one post at a time consecutively, making it necessary to scroll down for five minutes to get to the other stuff on my feed. It is possible to put as many pictures as you want on one post, people (you know who you are)!funny-posts-on-facebookIf I could ask God one question, I would ask “What’s up with praying mantises?”Praying%20Mantis2[1]

A group of larks is an “exaltation,” and a bunch of sheep is a “flock.” Numerous penguins are a “colony,” and a gathering of cows is a “herd.” A group of philosophers should be called a “confusion,” and a gathering of theologians should not be allowed.Exaltation

The older I get, the more Aristotelian I become. The older I get, the more I look like Plato.Sanzio_01_Plato_Aristotle[1]

According to Gallup polling, in November, American voters have the unique opportunity to elect as President the person who has been the most admired woman for the past seven years running, replacing the person who has been the most admired man for the past seven years running.

Most admired man and woman

When I was the director of the large interdisciplinary program that is the centerpiece of the core curriculum at my college, I created a form for faculty teams to use to demonstrate how their course will satisfy course objectives. I just submitted my team’s form for the first time after stepping down from being director. My comment to my teammates: ” I hate this form–who is responsible for it?”fill-out-form

When Moses asks the burning bush “Who shall I say sent me?”, the bush should have said “Bruce Springsteen.” That would have been less confusing than “I am that I am.”Bruce-Springsteen-singer-Boss[1]

If there is a script for how not to roll out a Vice Presidential running mate, the Trump campaign followed it perfectly last week.trump pence

Three-legged dogs should not lift their leg when they pee. They will fall over if they do.June 2009 056[1]

If Jesus was on the Olympic gymnastics team, his specialty would be the still rings. But I bet he wouldn’t go to the Rio Olympics. Too many possible problems.Jesus at the gym

be you

What is it Like to be You?

The day after five police officers were murdered in Dallas a bit over a week ago, close on the heels of African-American males being killed by police officers in Baton Rouge and Minneapolis, I bumped my scheduled Friday blog post and reblogged an essay from several months ago:

White Privilege

I introduced the reblog this way:

Nothing but pain and sadness this morning after last night’s events in Dallas. My usual Friday blog post will go out tomorrow; today I’m recalling something I wrote shortly after the New Year about how impossible it is for someone like me to know what it is like to be a person of color in our country.

Shortly after, a new follower of my blog wrote that

It is not impossible for you to know this. Have you tried? Empathy between human beings is never impossible.

Is it possible to truly know the experience of another person? What it is like to be someone other than me? These questions put me in full philosopher mode—sometimes the academic and the real person in me coincide.other minds

A favorite mind-bender that I enjoy introducing to students in philosophy class is the problem of other minds. I use the problem to illustrate just how internal and subjective each person’s thought and emotional life is and how little each of us knows about what is going on inside of anyone other than ourselves. For centuries many philosophers have suggested that it is the human capacity to think that makes us different from everything else. In some circles this is a controversial claim (my dachshund thinks, for instance), but for the moment suppose the claim is true. “How many of you believe you are a thinking thing?” I ask—all hands go up. Asked to explain why, students usually point out that each of us has direct access to our own internal life. We can turn our attention inward and notice thoughts flying all over the place.thinking thing Furthermore, this internal access is exclusive—no one else has such direct access to my internal world.

“How many of you think there are other thinking things in the room in addition to you?” I ask next. All hands go up once again. “How do you know?” I wonder. The ensuing conversation is interesting, since the process here is far less direct than affirming one’s own status as a thinking thing. I do not have direct access to the internal world of anything other than myself; accordingly, I expand my community of thinking things beyond myself through charitable assumptions, such as:

  • If I acted the way that X is acting, it would be because I am a thinking thing. Therefore, I will assume that X is acting in that manner because SHE is a thinking thing.
  • If I made coherent and understandable vocal sounds as Y is making, it would at least partially be because I am a thinking thing. Therefore, I will assume that Y is making those sounds because HE is a thinking thing.

And so on. The point is, we cannot know the inner thoughts or emotions of another—we cannot even prove that they have such thoughts or emotions—we have to infer the inner lives of others, and the contents thereof, by creative observation of what they say and do. The position that “I am the only thinking thing”—solipsism—is a logically coherent position to take; fortunately, it is generally taken up only in philosophy classrooms and by insane people.

The issue of whether any of us can truly know what it is like to be someone else has implications far beyond classroom philosophical entertainment. As issues of race and the Black experience in America once again are front and center,Newt it is easy for even the most well-meaning white person to imagine that she or he, by becoming more informed and developing a stronger sense of empathy, can have an accurate sense of what it is like to be an African-American in this country. The “other minds” experiment should serve as a strong caution to facile assumptions that empathy and good will are enough. Many were surprised when Newt Gingrich told an interviewer the following in the aftermath of Baton Rouge and Minneapolis:

It took me a long time, and a number of people talking to me through the years to get a sense of this. If you are a normal, white American, the truth is you don’t understand being black in America and you instinctively under-estimate the level of discrimination and the level of additional risk.

Gingrich is right (probably the first time I have ever written or said that).

This is the sort of thing I had in mind when I responded to my blog commenter that

Empathy is one thing–we are all capable of that and should strive for it every day. But no, I as a white male do not know what it is like to be a black man in America, nor can I. Imagining or pretending that I can would be making myself part of the problem.

what is she thinkingTo empathize is to creatively imagine myself in the shoes of the person with whom I am empathizing, asking “what would I feel like—what would it be like for me—if that was happening to me or if someone treated me that way?” This is a skill that all of us should practice regularly. But notice that when I empathize, I am still front and center. What would it be like if I was black? or What would it be like if I was a single mother in poverty? are questions that, at best, stretch my capacities of imagination. But such questions are always limited by my own experiences and defining characteristics. Abe yous long as I suppose that I know what it is like to be an African-American in America when all I have done is creatively role play, I will continue to see the experience of the other through the lens of my experience. I will think I understand—but I won’t.

Always keeping in mind that none of us can truly know what it is like to be anyone other than ourselves opens the door to more fruitful conversations as well as less abstraction and stereotyping. As Simone Weil once said, it’s the difference between “let me tell you how to solve your problem” and “tell me what you are going through.” Trying to be the solution for someone else without first listening is energized by the assumption that everyone else’s experience is some sort of variation of mine. “This is what I would want in that situation, so this is what this person must want as well.” Listening without assumption and judgment affirms the fact that the other is the keeper of and expert concerning her or his own experience. From that affirmation, a different sort of engagement just might be possible.

Lady M

My Life as Lady Macbeth

The new semester begins in less than two months and I’m pumped! I’m particularly anxious to be back in the classroom again because I’m coming off a year’s sabbatical and have not been in front of a class for fifteen months. In addition, this will be the first time in over ten years that I have not had to balance my teaching energies with significant administrative duties. I’ve already been asked to chair one committee and be a member of two others this coming year, but that’s nothing compared to running a department or program. I’m not complaining, though–I learned a lot about myself and my leadership style over the past decade. I wrote about this a couple of years ago as I entered my final year of running a large interdisciplinary program on my campus . . .

NiccoloOver five hundred years ago, Niccolò Machiavelli raised a classic question in The Prince: for a person with power seeking to keep or increase that power, Is it better to be loved or to be feared? This question came up in two separate seminars during Old Testament week with my freshmen in only their second week of college. The texts for the day were the first twenty-five chapters of Genesis along with the first twenty-five of Exodus; the main character in these texts—God—seems in his omniscience to have decided Machiavelli’s question millennia before Machiavelli ever showed up. For an extraordinarily powerful being who also happens to be capricious, vengeful, manipulative, insecure and self-absorbed, fear is far more effective than love. My students frequently wondered why God so often found it necessary to express divine power in over-the-top and destructive ways, given that nobody doubted who was more powerful in a God-human comparison, nor was it likely that anyone was plotting an overthrow of God’s rule. GodThe ancient Israelites and their forebears had probably read Milton’s Paradise Lost and found out what happened to Lucifer when he tried that. And apparently God wasn’t aware that Machiavelli’s question applies only to those whose power can actually be lost. If one is omnipotent, one can do whatever the hell one wants.

But for mere mortals lacking the ability to generate world-wide floods or to drop creative plagues on non-compliant people, Machiavelli’s question remains pressing. If one finds oneself in a position of power or authority and is seeking to use that power effectively, is it better to cultivate love or fear among those under one’s authority? Although teachers sometimes sound as if they are entirely powerless in the face of pressures from all constituencies, in fact a teacher in the classroom finds herself in a situation of almost complete power that demands a constant, flexible, lived answer to Machiavelli’s question. A teacher’s success or failure depends on how she or he shapes love and fear into a structure solid enough to withstand challenge but flexible enough to address the ever-changing atmosphere of the classroom on a daily basis. dept chairI’ve been at it for over twenty-five years and am still working on it.

I had to think through the “love or fear” issue in an entirely different manner when I found myself in an academic administrative position for the first time. As the chair of the twenty-two-member philosophy department, knowing that if trying to lead faculty is like herding cats, then trying to lead philosophers is like herding a breed of cats who believe that ideas alone are enough and that simply thinking something makes it so, I worried about how to even begin. At the end of four sometimes exhausting years, I was surprised to look back on my term as chair and conclude that it had largely been a success. We rewrote the department mission statement, entirely revised our major and minor, and hired six tenure-track faculty, all without anyone getting killed or maimed. Not known for my “people skills,” it turned out that I had a knack for what might be called “diplomatic persuasion.” I sometimes described this new-found skill as the ability to “diss someone without their knowing they’ve been dissed until a day later,” or to “convince people that what you want them to do is actually their idea.” diplomatic persuasionAmid tedious solitary hours of paperwork and tedium, the people management thing was sort of fun—and no one hated me (that I’m aware of) at the end of four years.

When I was asked a couple of years later to step into much larger and more challenging administrative role—leading the large interdisciplinary program that is the centerpiece of my college’s core curriculum—I dusted off my “diplomatic persuasion” skills and retooled them for the task of leading and cajoling four times as many faculty down a much more treacherous path than I traveled with the philosophy department in my years as chair. Within the first couple of my first semester as director, I established a few new policies and started some difficult collective conversations that I fully expected to generate significant pushback. Surprisingly, I received almost none—everyone actually started doing what I asked. “Wow!” I thought. “My ‘diplomatic persuasion’ leadership skills really work! I actually know what I’m doing!”

Early one morning shortly before the day’s classes began I mentioned to a colleague who was a teaching veteran in the program my pleasant surprise that no one had (yet) directly complained about the new directions the program was turning toward. “That’s because everyone’s afraid of you,” my colleague suggested. Afraid of ME? Really? Introverted little ole me?? VM Ruane 9Although my colleague is not known for her sense of humor, I assumed she was kidding. “Yeah, right (ha ha ha)” I said. She replied by revealing something about me that I never knew “No, really. You can be very intimidating at times.” Add fifteen years in the program, tenure, full professorship, introversion, a teaching award and a gray ponytail together and apparently the illusion of intimidation is produced. “Fine,” I thought. “If people are under the false impression that I’m scary on some level and it’s causing them to actually pull together in a good direction, then that’s a card worth playing as long as it works.” When I reported a couple of weeks later to my two sons at our annual Thanksgiving gathering that the faculty in my program is afraid of me, the news produced guffaws and laughter of a rolling-on-the-ground-and-gasping-for-air variety.Propero

I was reminded of all of this three years later just the other day as the latest Facebook personality quiz caught my attention. “Which Shakespeare character are you?” Fully expecting the typical bland “You are Hamlet” or “You are Prospero,” another unknown feature of myself was unexpectedly revealed.

http://quizsocial.com/which-shakespeare-character-are-you/

Lady MacbethYou got: Lady Macbeth! Wow, are you ever good at manipulating people into doing what you want! It is a valuable skill, one that could help you secure a job in government one day, but also a dangerous one. Like Lady Macbeth, you have a love of power that could motivate you to do evil things. Don’t let it overtake you.

Well now—that’s very interesting. Am I really channeling one of the most determined and evil manipulators in all of Western literature? The closest contemporary comparison to Lady Macbeth is Claire Underwood, the amoral, calculating, ambitious and uncompromisingly cold wife of Frank Underwood, claire and frankthe Senate majority whip who in two seasons has climbed, manipulated, lied and murdered his way to the Presidency in Netfix’s megahit “House of Cards.” The only person more ruthlessly calculating than Frank in the “House of Cards” universe is Claire—she keeps his manipulative batteries charged when they run low. And I’m not making this up—there’s a whole cottage industry on-line that documents just how indebted “House of Cards” is to Shakespeare, especially to “Richard III” and “Macbeth,” and just how much Claire and Frank’s marriage mirrors the relationship between Lady and King (for a short time) Macbeth. (Spoiler alert)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/02/21/house-of-cards-shakespeare-_n_4823200.html

So apparently my commitment to “diplomatic persuasion” is actually an expression of my deep-seated commitment to power and manipulation. w to p barMy expressed desire to lead the program I direct effectively into a new and more creative future is a thinly disguised working out of my need to control. Nietzsche was right after all—all living things seek not just to survive but to extend their dominance and influence as far as possible. Administering an academic department or program has unexpectedly turned out to be an effective way for me to get to do what all human beings secretly want to do but often never get a chance to do—boss other people around and make them dance to your tune. I may end up dead with indelible blood on my hands, but the journey will be a lot of fun.

Or not. I’m not buying this, because I’m not buying that leadership necessarily requires a commitment to manipulation and power. leadershipBut I might be wrong. Maybe my sabbatical project should be to establish a new Lady Macbeth School of Leadership on some campus somewhere. It’s a thought. P.S. From Facebook comments generated by the results of the above Shakespeare quiz, I have discovered that friends and colleagues have learned that they are Bottom, Iago, Falstaff or Richard III. But so far I’m the only Lady Macbeth. The “quizsocial” person must have been having a very dark day when he/she put this quiz together.

better than this

Are We Better Than This?

A few days ago I posted the following on Facebook:Facebook

My favorite sort of discussion (very common in social media) is the one in which the person with whom I am disagreeing doesn’t know the difference between disagreement and lack of comprehension. You know, the sort of person who continually says “What is it about my perfectly clear and 100% correct position that you don’t understand?” since of course there is no possible chance that I might understand perfectly and just disagree. Or that the person in question might just be wrong. Or that there is more than one supportable position on the issue. Sigh.

My Facebook message was prompted by the latest unsolicited example of such communication. On Tuesday morning I opened my email, as is my early morning custom, to find that a comment had been posted in the middle of the night on my blog in which, among other things, the commenter accused me ofRD

  • Not knowing the difference between Republicans and Democrats (I do)
  • Not knowing the difference between liberals and conservatives (I do)
  • Claiming that all conservatives hate poor and disabled people (I didn’t)
  • Being a socialist (I saw no evidence that she knows what the word means)
  • Making her life difficult because she would now have to refute my argument on her “political blog.” (Guilty as charged–my purpose in life is to make your life difficult)

She was commenting on a blog post that made its first appearance two years ago—and is by far the most popular post in the four-year history of my blog.

The Return of Republican Jesus

I made a point of going to her “political blog”; as soon as I saw that her “go-to” adjective to describe the positions held by liberals on various issues is “moronic,” I knew there was little sense in seeking to engage her further. Still, I couldn’t help myself and responded as follows:cl

Thanks for your comments. We probably do not share much in common politically, but that’s fine. Please note that my post you commented on is not about liberal vs. conservative or Republican vs. Democrat in general–it’s about the challenge of fitting one’s political commitments together with one’s Christian faith. Your comments are simply a rehash of the usual conservative vs. liberal stuff, which I’m not particularly interested in. If you care to engage with the issue that I’m actually writing about, I’d love to hear your thoughts. You might perhaps be interested in a follow-up essay to the one you commented on that I posted several weeks after the first one:

Donald Trump and Evangelicals

This was just my latest example of fruitless conversation about important issues, a problem that infects our private and public conversations at every level these days. Lest I give the impression that it is only people on the other side of the issues from me who regularly fail to participate in civil debate, I freely admit that the only reason I avoid being nasty and snarky in conversations with those who disagree with me is that I generally manage to avoid such conversations like the plague. Jeanne and I, for instance, recently visited family in Pennsylvania for the first time in several years. social mediaWe are liberals, they are conservatives—and we all know it. Accordingly, we talked about the many things we share in common—our dogs, the kids, our shared faith, sports—and did not talk about politics, flash-point social issues, and so on. And a fabulous time was had by all. This is one of the reasons that social media is a poor substitute for real interaction with flesh and blood humans. Social media thrives on controversy, name calling, virtual bomb throwing, and typing things into your device that you would never say in person to your worst enemy.

I am a philosophy professor and spend a lot of time and energy trying to convince my students that doubt and questioning are healthy human activities, that certainty is overrated, and that civil discourse requires the ability to engage without judgment persons holding contrary viewpoints to yours. foxmsnbcYet I find that on some issues I do not believe that there is “another side.” Same-sex marriage, gun control, global warming—don’t get me started. I used to occasionally watch a few minutes of the 24-hour news channel whose programming is built on the promotion of the opposite of what I believe on just about every issue, just to “see what the other side is doing.” Not anymore. I’m even selective about what I listen to on NPR and the 24-hour television news channel where everyone pretty much agrees with me all the time. The other day after a big news event the host of a show on that channel lined up a former head of the DNC and a Republican senator to comment. I listened to the first guy and changed the channel before the second guy got to give “the other side”—life’s too short to waste any time listening to people who are wrong. My guess is that there are millions of people out there who in practice are just as intolerant of “the other side” on some issues as I am. How did we get to this point?

I received a number of wide-ranging and interesting comments from my Facebook acquaintances—the vast majority of whom share a worldview strikingly similar to mine (that’s why we “friended” each other in the first place)—after posting my mini-diatribe about people who don’t know the difference between disagreement and lack of comprehension. A sampling:

  • I don’t understand. (smart ass)
  • I love these people too! They remind me of what most people are like and how fortunate I am to have been raised with an open mind and heart. Unwillingness to see someone else’s side is the source of most conflict. bcAnd it is the sad state in which we currently live. Feeling your pain! (a bit condescending for my taste, but I do appreciate the Bill Clinton reference)
  • People increasingly live in opinion bubbles. This applies to both left and right. (I’ve written about this before (notice how skilfully I am getting links to other blog posts in? I need the numbers)
    Red and Blue Bubbles

  • I saw a funny statement. “I hold in my hand a device that can access the whole of human knowledge. And I use it to argue with strangers and look at pictures of cats.” (I love it)

A few comments particularly stuck out:

  • Favorite song line (from Maya, by Incredible String Band) “opinions are his fingernails” They just keep growing, even after the reason is dead. Or chewed on. (Much better than the old saw “opinions are like assholes—everyone’s got one.”

Some were self-reflective:

  • They evoke some combative part of me that aims for vindication, instead of the better part of me, that wishes to achieve understanding through discussion.sad

Others turned me into a “sad” emoji (this one from a very smart and engaged cousin):

  • For the most part I’ve stopped trying to have reasoned debate with people of contrasting views. Reason seems to be too rare, and as you said, it degenerates to “why don’t you understand me?”
    • A sad but accurate comment on the state of discourse these days.

And finally, this from the priest at my Episcopal church:

  • Persuasion at any cost… Even at the expense of the truth. We are better than this.

Are we really better than this? Sometimes I wonder.

Welfare in my Back Yard

Although I am a very liberal guy, I occasionally worry about the welfare state. I understand the need for any healthy society to have various mechanisms in place to assist those who, through no fault of their own, safety netfind themselves incapable of taking care of their own basic needs; furthermore, my Christian faith calls for me to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, and protect the widow and orphan. But what of those who have found ways to work the system effectively, who regularly grab a handout at the taxpayers’ expense when they are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves? Many of the students in my “Markets and Morals” colloquium a year ago were so concerned about welfare abuse that they were willing to live in a world with no social safety net at all—at least we would know that those who survived had earned it.

For years,  Jeanne and I have been providing food for the hungry in a real time manner—setting it out on a first-come, first-served basis as quickly as it could be consumed. And it has been getting consumed so quickly that I have started wondering whether we are unwittingly contributing to a bunch of slackers who could take care of themselves if they would just improve their work ethic and stop looking for handouts. birds feedingAs I often do when confronted with perplexing challenges, I went to the experts—my Facebook acquaintances. The response was very interesting.

Bird lovers! We have bird feeders in our side yard–so many birds visit that we go through six cakes of suet every 36 hours or so. Mostly wrens, sparrows, chickadees, with the occasional woodpecker and even less occasional goldfinch. A couple of people have told me that one should definitely feed birds during the winter but not during the summer, since they can find their own food in the summer. I don’t want to be contributing to a dependent class of birds looking for an avian handout, and we are spending an increasing amount of money on bird food! What do you think?

The responses fell into several distinct categories. Some people just embraced the joy of helping make the lives of God’s creatures, no matter who they are, a little bit easier. But is the help primarily for those in need or for the self-satisfaction of the helper?

  • Those beautiful birds are such a glorious part of God’s creation! We enjoy watching them, and so does our little indoor cat, so I feed and water the birds pretty much year-round. I will shamelessly admit that it is for my own enjoyment as much as anything else, regardless of the expense. Our yard is a welcome center for our fine feathered friends! Their symphonies fill the air, so it is a pleasure to sit out on the deck to observe them and listen to their concerts.fat bird
  • They probably can find enough food in the summer, but…if you enjoy watching them…I’d say it’s worth the money (are they getting fat??)

Others suggested that some needs should be taken care of, but not others. Thread the needle between welfare dependence and self-sufficiency, in other words.

  • I don’t feed birds, but I do have two bird baths. Clean water is even more necessary for their survival than food. Birds are always using the larger birdbath about 15-20 feet away from a large window, which makes it easy to watch them.bird in birdbath
  • Be sure they have water in the summer. They may be able to find food, but water is not as easy as it once was.
  • I’m pretty sure I have contributed to the dependence of several generations of cardinals and chickadees. Concur about water. I try to keep my two bird baths filled and refreshed every couple of days.

One of the most frequent tropes was to express a preference for helping some, but not others, suggesting that it is better to feed no one than to risk the possibility that someone I don’t like might get some food despite my best efforts to keep them from it.

  • We gave up on bird feeders – couldn’t keep the squirrels out of them. When we attached a cone to block their access from the ground, they just started jumping from the trees. They put on some great acrobatics shows, but, really, feed the tree rats? I don’t think so.squirrel
  • I had such a hard time keeping squirrels from eating everything that I gave up on feeding them. I have heard that feeding them makes them less able to get food on their own.
  • We gave up feeding the birds because the pidgeons [sic] chase away the song birds.

And some suggested that only very special types should get help.

  • We only feed the birds in the winter with one exception being the humming bird.
  • There are many places for them to find food & they manage well – No worries; they will be back . . . I just found out I have a hummingbird nest in a tree in my yard – I’m excited!! hummingbirds

The most nuanced response—the one that I found most attentive to all parties concerned—encouraged me to continue feeding everyone but to take closer rationing control.

  • I feed them in the summer, but I am the boss of the bird feeder, and if they go through the seeds too fast, they just have to wait a couple of days. I try not to refill the feeder more than once a week.

My own responses to these various comments and suggestions reflect my own uncertainty about how to deal with these avian freeloaders.

  • Just as I thought–I am contributing to the creation of a dependent class of birds.
  • Well, I must admit that I am tired of the free-loading birds who always want their beaks filled when they should be out looking for jobs.

I finally ended up with this tentative decision:

  • Thanks, everyone! I will continue feeding them but do better at managing their consumption–and I’ll address the water issue!

Truth be told, I suspect I will continue to feed them indiscriminately as they chirp innocently in the tree and our roof as soon as the feeders are empty. I am easily manipulated.welfare I found it interesting and a slight bit disconcerting to find that my friends’ and my attitudes about bird welfare fell immediately into categories recognizable from the never-ending debates about social safety nets and welfare for human beings in this country. The important questions remain the same. What duties do we have to those who do not have enough? Why are people in need in the first place? Should those who have enough expect those who do not have enough to prove their worthiness to be helped? What is the difference between charity and duty? Are there limits to how much those in need should be helped? And if we can’t agree about birds, what are the chances achieving consensus about our fellow human beings? I headed out to fill up the feeders right now—I wonder how many of the dozens of birds in line deserve it.

White Privilege

Nothing but pain and sadness this morning after last night’s events in Dallas. My usual Friday blog post will go out tomorrow; today I’m recalling something I wrote shortly after the New Year about how impossible it is for someone like me to know what it is like to be a person of color in our country.

If I lived by my principles fully, I would never shop at Walmart. For reasons too numerous to belabor, Walmart represents many of the worst features of American capitalism. But there are many items that Jeanne and I regularly purchase at Walmart, items that we could get at any number of other retail establishments. So why do we go to Walmart? Because it’s convenient and its cheaper. walmartPrinciples be damned, apparently—I guess there’s an American capitalist in me after all. But I must confess that I don’t enjoy going there—I feel as if I’m doing something wrong every time I pull into Walmart’s parking lot.

Last Saturday was my latest excursion to the dark side for dog treats, a few cheap picture frames, checking the Keurig display (our Walmart occasionally has our favorite Amaretto flavor), shampoo, cold medicine, and a couple of other items for which in our experience Walmart has the lowest prices. After paying I headed for the exit where, as is the custom at this Walmart, there was an employee checking the bags of those leaving the store for the parking lot—something that Jeanne and I both find annoying and yet another reason to hate Walmart. Then something happened that I found worthy of a Facebook post when I got home.

walmart-security-checkHad an interesting experience at Walmart this morning. After buying my stuff and heading for the exit, there’s a Hispanic family in front of me and an African-American guy behind me. After checking the receipt of the family in front of me to make sure everything is accounted for, the Walmart employee at the door (an older white guy) waves me through. I said “No, either you check everybody or you check nobody.” Checking my receipt, he said “you’re right.” In the parking lot afterward, the guy behind me said “thanks, man–that was nice.”

This was not a typical thing for me to do; my awareness usually is only high enough to show the employee my receipt if she or he insists and get the hell out of there. But this time I noticed something and, contrary to my nature, said something about it. “Good for me,” I congratulated myself as I drove home.sticker

White privilege—I confess that although I read about it frequently and have intellectually affirmed that it exists for a long time, in practical terms I have been virtually blind to it. Jeanne and I have laughed occasionally that there are no two whiter people in the world than we are. I have white hair in a ponytail and white skin that is a product of my Scandinavian gene pool. Jeanne acts Italian, but has the beautiful, freckled lily-white skin from the Irish half of her ancestry. Without Jeanne’s red hair we would look like Casper and his significant other. But during our current Presidential election cycle my almost-sixty-year-old whiteness has come to my attention more frequently than in the past—I hear and read over and over again that certain elements of U. S. citizenry is angry, upset about all sorts of things, an anger that is making outsider candidates such as Ben Carson and Donald Trump attractive in spite of their complete lack of traditional qualifications for the Presidency. mad as hellAnd what sorts of people are angriest? Older white people, particularly older white guys. My demographic, in other words.

So what are older white people angry about? According to an older white couple interviewed by MSNBC while standing in line for a Trump rally, “everything.” When asked to be more specific, neither one of them went further than “we want America to be the way it used to be,” in alignment with Trump’s campaign slogan “Make America Great Again.” The attractiveness of that, of course, depends on how one defines “great”—as one of the anchors on “Weekend Update” on the Saturday Night Live broadcast that Donald Trump hosted recently remarked, “Whenever rich old white guys start bringing up the good old days, my Negro senses start tingling.” Specific issues are often raised, but the general sense is often that a segment of the population—particularly older white folks—have a gnawing fear that things they have taken for granted their whole lives are changing and that the world they thought they could depend on seems not quite so dependable any more. There is anger that a world which used to make perfect sense isn’t making sense any more. yodaOne blunt but honest way of describing this is that older white folks aren’t happy about an emerging world in which whiteness and entitlement are no longer synonymous.

I was surprised that my brief Facebook post about my Walmart experience received more “likes” and comments than anything I have ever posted on Facebook—and I’m pretty active there (more than I should be). My experience apparently hit a nerve—positively. One Facebook acquaintance whom I have never met in person commented “Not only is it great that you pointed this out at the time, but it is great that you posted about it. Too many of us white people aren’t even aware that this happens . . . probably partly because we aren’t even aware that ANYONE gets checked . . . when it doesn’t happen to us, we don’t notice.” It takes conscious awareness for the privileged to even see their privilege—this is why “All Lives Matter” from a white person is not an appropriate response to “Black Lives Matter.” This response implies that “of course black lives matter—we all do, because everyone is equal in our country. Didn’t you know that?” Ignoring, of course, the fact that older white folks like I have been the beneficiaries of generations of accumulated and embedded privilege our whole lives, white privilegeusually without our even being aware—it can be jarring to be told forcefully that what we take for granted has been institutionally denied to those unlike us throughout the history of our country.

As I posted on this blog a week ago, my New Year’s Resolution is to find ways to be a blessing in my corner of the world—I’d like to think that my Walmart experience is a start. I’m not an angry older white person—even if I shared the fears of those who express such anger (and I don’t), I would not be able to sustain it for long. Being perpetually pissed takes a psychological toll. But as an older white person I am privileged in ways that are both institutional and unjust—I commit myself to noticing and addressing those ways as often as possible. As a close friend commented on my Facebook story, “I love those moments which move life toward justice—one has to believe that it all adds up.” One bit of awareness at a time.

Repairing the World

Every once in a while someone posts a comment on my blog that reminds me of why I dedicate so much time, thought, and energy to my writing. A week ago, a person new to following my blog posted just such a comment. He was actually commenting on a post that I wrote several months ago.

Donald Trump and Evangelicals

Here’s what he wrote:

It is very refreshing to hear a Christian of faith actually take a stand against the kind of bigotry and political vitriol that we have heard so much in this presidential campaign this year. I was a convert to Judaism almost 40 years ago mainly for some of the reasons you outlined above. As I’ve explained to some of my evangelical Christian friends who I went to high school with in Alabama, I chose Judaism because it allowed me the freedom to question the tenets of my faith without any repercussions from other Jews because there is such a broad spectrum of beliefs within Judaism from atheism to orthodoxy.Tikkun_Olam What unites Jews as a people of faith is not their theological beliefs or political persuasions but their worldview and values regarding the dignity of all people and their commitment as the Chosen People to honor Abraham’s covenant by serving as partners with God to do their part to make this world a better place for all humankind, what in Hebrew is called “tikkun olam” (תיקון עולם) or “repair of the world”.

Although I hadn’t thought about it for a while, I am very familiar with “tikkun olam” and find it to be one of the most fruitful concepts when thinking about God that I have ever encountered. I also believe that there is a similar concept in Christianity, if one knows where to look for it. I call it “incarnation.”

HeschelRabbi Abraham Heschel once said in an interview that “There is a partnership of God and men. God needs our help.”

That is not an exclusively Jewish sentiment; at the heart of Christianity lies the amazing idea that the way God chooses to be in the world is through human beings. I was taught that the Incarnation—God becoming human—was a one-time historical event, but the truth of the matter is that the divine strategy of God engaging with the world in human form continues. In us. Benedictine sister Joan Chittister expresses it well:

God did not finish creation; God started it. Its ongoing development God leaves to us. What we do in life makes us the hands of God in living flesh and blood.

chittisterElsewhere, she expands on the idea:

Having made the world, having given it everything it needs to continue, having brought it to the point of abundance and possibility and dynamism, God left it for us to finish. God left it to us to be the mercy and the justice, the charity and the care, the righteousness and the commitment, all that it will take for people to bring the goodness of God to outweigh the rest.

I have found that this proposed collaboration between divine and human exhilarates some and causes others to check their heresy meter.

Understanding incarnation as a continuing divine strategy rather than a one-time deal requires rethinking some characteristics that Christians have traditionally attributed to God—particularly omnipotence. Claims such as “God needs our help” and “God leaves it to us” require some explanation if God is all-powerful and can do whatever God chooses to do. But perhaps power is not the primary motivating factor for the divine. Simone Weil argues that the very act of divine creation was also an act of diminishment, even abandonment. Out of love, God chooses to withdraw from direct intervention in our world, choosing rather to be in the world through the free choices and actions of human beings. Annie Dillard summarizes Weil’s insight as follows:

Mostly, God is out of the physical loop. Or the loop is a spinning hole in his side. Simone Weil takes a notion from luriaRabbi Isaac Luria to acknowledge that God’s hands are tied. To create, God did not extend himself but withdrew himself; he humbled and obliterated himself, and left outside himself the domain of necessity, in which he does not intervene. Even in the domain of souls, he intervenes “only under certain conditions.”

Weil puts it even more strikingly: The absence of God is the most marvelous testimony of perfect love. I teach this aspect of Weil’s thought frequently to mostly Catholic juniors and seniors in an honors capstone seminar. The students invariably find the idea of a God who out of love chooses diminishment in power to be challenging, to say the least. Yet the evidence for such an interpretation is at the heart of the Christian narrative. God become human and lived a human life in humility and weakness; from within these parameters, parameters that define all of us, the world was changed forever.

The commenter on my blog has been following my essays for only a couple of weeks or so and has apparently been reading any number of posts. He closed by reacting to a different essay from a while ago.

Socratic Faith

As a Jew I have the kind of Socratic faith that you have and which you so eloquently explained in one of your blogs. It may not always feel like it to you, but I believe you are doing God’s work, whether there is a God or not. Your brand of Christianity makes me want to believe that there is.

Thanks, I needed that.

Patriotism and the Art of Compromise

I think it’s time for us to get a little bit more uncompromising in our defense of compromise. Jonathan Rauch

One of the many benefits of getting up early on Sunday morning in order to make the 8:00 service at church is that I can catch the last fifteen minutes of onbeingKrista Tippett’s radio program “On Being” as I drive. I first became aware of Krista several years ago when I was on sabbatical at the ecumenical institute in Minnesota where she first got the idea for her program a few years before my semester there. Her show—called “Speaking of Faith” at the time—aired on Sunday afternoons in Minnesota—I listened every week and was pleased when our local NPR station picked it up a couple of years ago. Not every week is a classic, but every once in a while there is an “On Being” broadcast that I just can’t stop thinking about.

A year or so ago I tuned in just in time to hear one of her guests say the following:

I don’t know why it is, but I think we’re just at this moment in time where the public conversation is at a particularly low level of quality—the coarseness, the ugliness, the assumption of bad faith, the triviality, the sensationalism. I really think that so many people are aware of this . . . I can’t diagnose it, really, I don’t have a diagnosis. All I really know is it’s terrible, it’s bad for the country, it’s bad for our souls.

“Tell me about it,” I thought—the guest’s description nailed my perception of what public discourse has devolved into for the past several years. His comments were particularly timely for Independence Day. Blankenhorn and RauchThe title of that “On Being” conversation  was “The Future of Marriage”; the speaker I just quoted is David Blankenhorn, who argued against same sex marriage as a social good both in California’s tumultuous Proposition 8 debate as well as in his 2007 book The Future of Marriage. He is also founder and director of the Institute of American Values. Blankenhorn’s conversation companion that day, along with Tippett, was Jonathan Rauch, a Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institution, a lifelong journalist and the author of Gay Marriage: Why It Is Good for Gays, Good for Straights, and Good for America. Rauch is a gay man and has publicly debated the gay marriage issue with Blankenhorn so often over the years in various forums that they ultimately became good friends. In the midst of the intellectual arguments for and against, both men realized that they shared something important in common. As Blankenhorn put it in a New York Times op-ed in 2012,

My intention is to try something new. Instead of fighting gay marriage, I’d like to help build new coalitions bringing together gays who want to strengthen marriage with straight people who want to do the same.

It was a costly decision for Blankenhorn financially. Half of his institute’s board members resigned and half of his funding dried up. marriage opportunity councilTogether in 2015 Rauch and Blankenhorn launched a joint initiative called The Marriage Opportunity Council, crossing liberal and conservative, gay and straight boundaries.

The hour-long conversation is fascinating and informative—I encourage you to take a listen.

http://www.onbeing.org/program/future-marriage-david-blankenhorn-and-jonathan-rauch/4883

But on this Independence Day, I am particularly interested and intrigued by the final ten or so minutes of the show. Neither Blankenhorn’s nor Rauch’s intellectual arguments convinced his friend to change his mind on the issue. But the evolution of their friendship and dialogue is an illustration of what they call “Achieving Disagreement.” Blankenhorn’s description sketches a possible approach to raising the low achieving disagreementlevel of public discourse in this country:

It’s easy to have a false disagreement. I can just say, “Oh, you’re a bad person and you’re stupid.” I can just have a belief. But to actually know where we disagree requires effort from you and from me. We have to have a relationship to do that. And part of achieving disagreement means identifying areas of common ground. It means finding out where we agree. . . . In today’s world of hyperpolarization and the sheer idiocy that is our public debate on most days, ninety-eight percent of the time, the heart just cries out for this kind of serious effort to achieve disagreement.

This very difficult but necessary strategy transcends any particular issue. Human beings are capable of falling into polarized and ossified positions on every issue imaginable—what would it be like to start difficult discussions with an extended search for what those disagreeing share in common? In the case of Blankenship and Rauch, discovering that they both were equally committed to strengthening marriage as a social institution changed everything—it got them past the divisive issue of who should be allowed to be married.

Jonathan Rauch argues that “achieving disagreement” is not only a good strategy for engaging with controversial issues, but also is our patriotic duty.

I believe there’s an element of patriotism about this. I believe that there are higher values, ultimately, than what each of us wants as individuals. I discovered in you [Blankenhorn], I thought, someone who understood that you’re a multivalue person and that as strongly as you felt about marriage, that you felt even more strongly that we have to share the country. And it is our duty as citizens to find ways to live together. And that’s a higher value still. federal conventionI equate that with a form of patriotism. When I see someone who won’t compromise, I see someone betraying the core purposes of our Constitution, which is to force compromise.

In a culture in which compromise has come to mean weakness and lack of principle, it is refreshing to be reminded that our country was constructed by its Founders to run on the fuel of compromise. To read James Madison’s Notes on the 1787 Constitutional Convention that produced our Constitution is to be immersed in a several month long exercise in compromise. It’s time to return to that positive energy. As Rauch continues,

I think of it as a duty. I think there are higher things than being right. By compromisers, by the way, I don’t mean people who give up on their core values and roll over and get rolled by the bitter partisans on the other side. I just mean people who at the end of the day say, “You know what? I’m not going to walk out of here with everything I wanted.” I think it’s time for us to get a little bit more uncompromising in our defense of compromise. constitutionI think we should understand and say this is a matter of patriotic duty to our country. . . . If your idea of compromise is the other guy’s going to agree with me . . . You are not being a patriotic American and you are betraying the founding premise of this country.

On this day Independence Day, I commit myself to being a better compromiser. I am as willing and as capable of demeaning and belittling those who disagree with me on issues that are important to me as the next person—but I can do better.  Enjoy Independence Day—and don’t forget to compromise!yin yang