DECIDING TO FEDERATE

Why would any human entity, be it an individual or group, decide to federate¹ himself, herself, or itself with other entities? The entity might do so out of a sense of fear over some danger or a sense that a significant opportunity is available; of expecting, by becoming federated, to receive a rich reward or avoid an unwanted development. Historically, we are probably most familiar with the example of the original thirteen colonies coming together to form the origins of our political union. The instruments that bound those thirteen entities into a union also bound all of us into a form of partnership which originally fended off a danger and eventually has been parlayed into an enormous gain.

The decision to unite initially was spurred, among many reasons, by the fear of an impending invasion from what by that time was beginning to be viewed as a foreign force. On July 2-3, 1776, as the Continental Congress was about to announce our national independence, the British Empire was instigating a military presence on our shores of over 30,000 well disciplined regular infantry soldiers. The purpose of the landing force was to quash our attempts to establish ourselves as a self-determining people. They were landing on Long Island, New York and posed a danger to that colony – a danger that that colony could not possibly defeat on its own. But a united effort by all the colonies was seen as the only way to fend off this threat.

Now each of those men who were meeting in Philadelphia to form the covenant we call the Declaration of Independence had to consider the situation very seriously. They were all men of means; they all had a great deal to lose if this venture they were entering were to fail. Yet, on the one hand, they feared a future where they would to some degree be treated as inferiors by their British masters if the colonial arrangement that existed continued. On the other hand, they were in line to lose all their property and likely to have their necks stretched at the end of a rope.² A serious choice, indeed.

Given the options before them, central to their consideration was the strong belief that those with whom they were federating would not find the overall challenge of the coming years too much to bear. The covenant they formed had to be perpetual through the time frame of their challenge. One can question how long they viewed the upcoming struggle, but adding to the pressure they must have felt was the indeterminate nature of what was going to happen in the coming years. Once the covenant was formed, only through mutual agreement could this formulated bond be broken – at least that is what each assumed the others believed – and they were willing to gamble all they had on this assumption.

And in what ways might the bond have been broken? What if, for example, the British made separate deals with one or more of the colonies, offering them special treatment in exchange for their abandonment of the independence movement? Entering into this agreement, each delegation at the Continental Congress had to believe that this would not happen. As it turned out, it didn't happen, but what guarantee was there that all of them would remain loyal to the cause? These were very intelligent men and, given the stakes, I'm sure they each thought of every possible eventuality. Yet they signed the agreement and, as it turns out, they all lived by it.

Of course, this initial promise led, over ten years later, to our present constitutional compact. This was upping the ante, for now the fate in question was not of a group of rich men in a temporal pickle, but of a nation setting about a framework for a perpetual future. Here, as stated above, the union was of independent states and of the citizens of those states. In such an agreement, if you're in, you're in for good. One party or one group within the union could not simply decide to leave the union, not legitimately, anyway. A nation cannot proceed if its parts can just decide they have had enough.³

In everyday life, are there covenanted or compacted agreements to which we can more readily relate? Marriage used to be such a commitment. I say used to be because marriage has evolved into more of a contract than a covenant or compact. Marriages have become easily dis-solvable. Is that good? It is a good question but beyond the purview of this posting. One aspect of this development, though, is a mental approach to family affairs that shortchanges the importance of what is involved, such as the responsibilities of parenting. One should not enter into human arrangements lightheartedly when the potential consequences can be so costly. One should give such decisions much thought. But, from time to time, life calls for commitments of this type in order to avoid serious negative eventualities or to be able to seek highly prized opportunities. Look around; these founders of whom I write, both in 1776 and 1787, sought after a future that we are living today. Our lives would be drastically different today if the founders would not have secured the union we have; instead, we would have been a compilation of small political units competing for the resources of this continent.

1As I am using the term, to federate is to enter into with another party or parties a solemn agreement in which the parties promise to abide by the agreement. This is done through the instrument of a covenant which calls on God to witness the promise or a compact which does not call on God as a witness. The Declaration of Independence was a covenant; the US Constitution is a compact.

2For an account of George Washington's decision to join in this effort see Ellis, J. J. (2004). His excellency: George Washington. New York, NY: Vintage Books.

3Of course, this was the basic issue confronting Abraham Lincoln when the southern states decided to secede.

FUNCTIONING LEADERSHIP

I have in this blog described and explained a general view of politics and governance that, in its traditional form, had been the prevalent guiding mental construct of our political thought. That prevalence lasted from the nation's beginning until the 1950s. Through those years, other views of politics coexisted and challenged the prevalent view. As a matter of fact, the influence of what I call traditional federalism continuously diminished throughout those years. Then again, traditional federalist ideas and ideals are not totally foreign to our current political thinking and acting. One of the main purposes of this blog is to promote a more updated version of federalist thought in our curricular planning of civics and government courses. But at our core, this nation relies predominately, not exclusively, on the natural rights view to guide our political thinking. I was reminded of all of this as a reaction to the “tri-scandal” situation in which President Obama currently finds himself.

Within the challenging posture that I have taken – of promoting federation theory over the natural rights perspective – I have emphasized the communal character of federation theory. Generally, my argument has been that for an organized effort to be the most productive and efficient it can be, the mode of interaction between the members of the arrangement should be communal – that is, caring, cooperative, morally committed to the common good of the group – and, in addition, should promote equal standing among its members. Under this strategic mode, a member of an organized effort owes the group his loyalty, honesty, skills, knowledge, and trust. Such a commitment is based on a moral posture, but it also has very practical dimensions. With this type of interaction, members of a collective need not expend unproductive energies worrying about their fellow members doing them harm or having to engage in excessively competitive machinations. Yes, a certain level of competition is good, but it should be based on merit and carried on objectively with well established norms of behavior that are geared toward fairness. Equal standing does not mean equality of results – equal pay, equal power, equal status – but it means all members participate according to the same rules – equal condition. Advantages are earned by reasonable acknowledgment of contributions to the achievement of the organization's aims and goals. In short, the organization becomes a community dedicated to those aims and goals it has set for itself and, through that effort, for the mutual advancement of its members. There is, under an ideal federated arrangement, a cultivated and protected communal sense of advancement.

Then there is the function of leadership. All of the above pertains equally to the organization's leaders, even to the person at the top. A lot of the punditry on the various media outlets became highly critical of President Obama for poor leadership as a result of the three “scandals” that have erupted recently. Specifically, they found fault with his ability to be the tough boss who is disposed to having “heads roll” when people screw up in doing their government jobs. I don't want to make comment on this judgment; time will tell how it will turn out for the President. But I do think this whole episode or series of episodes provides a good case study by which to address and study the issue of effective leadership as viewed by federation theory.

To begin with, one needs not lose sight of the context in which the Presidency exists. The President is the “boss” of a huge bureaucracy. Between the civilian and military workforce, the federal government hires in the neighborhood of 4.3 million people. These people are distributed among a hefty number of departments, agencies, bureaus, and the like. The average federal worker has a multitude of bureaucratic layers between himself or herself and the President. In such an organization, one can readily see that to create an overall communal atmosphere from the top would be impossible, but I do think a President can set a tone and a message of what he or she values and is disposed to reward. A lot of this can be communicated by the political appointments the President makes. He or she can most definitely communicate it by how the White House staff is run. But the question remains, can such an approach – one that promotes a communal culture – be tough enough when the interest of the nation calls for the leader to take decisive action, willing to make those distasteful moves that include “throwing someone or some people under the bus.”

By all accounts, the very effective president, Ronald Reagan, was a really nice guy. He treated people kindly or that is what we are led to believe. To take on the tough guy role, he hired tough Chiefs of Staff, like Howard Baker, to “clean out what needed to be cleaned out.” Of course, even Reagan was able to be the bad guy at times, such as when he fired the air traffic controllers. But is this within the federalist way of doing things? At times, given the seriousness of a given set of conditions, a heavy hand is needed because an organization, no matter to what organizational theory it ascribes, needs to implement changes quickly if it is going to survive in an acceptable manner. Drastic changes will call for a new set of players to make those changes. This should be done in as judicial a way as time allows and, of course, basic rights of workers, depending on the contractual terms under which they work, should be honored. This latter concern is particularly important when one is talking about civil service workers as is the case for the majority of federal employees. If, on the other hand, time is more generous, then workers need to be given a chance to fix the problems, but that effort needs to be significantly planned out with intermediate steps identified and evaluations done at appropriate intervals. Disruption can ensue if leaders just go about disciplining or relieving people of their jobs without sensible and reasonable processes. In such cases, the message is “watch out, they're after us” or “be very careful how you do your job and don't take chances.” Such messages will stifle creativity and innovation. But the situation can be more serious: if trust and honesty are the issues, then the basis of any loyalty is compromised and more aggressive approach would be justified. All of this can be accommodated under a federalist model.

Under such challenges, the aim of maintaining the communal character of the organization should not be lost, but it also cannot be the obstacle that stands in the way of putting the organization on a productive path. Bigness is, in itself, a challenging factor. Bureaucracies, experience tells us, are, by and large, not the paragons of community. It is easy to get lost in the shuffle, but our public leaders need to take on the commitment of creating the environments that encourage a sense of belonging and mission. This, in turn, needs to reflect the purposes behind creating a worker's position in the first place.

In terms of teaching the topic, leadership – one usually not mentioned in civics classes – the above concerns could be used in organizing a lesson or two on the importance and function of governmental leadership. President Obama's recent “troubles” are just the latest of a long list of similar episodes. In each, US presidents have provided ample examples of these types of challenges that usually include their leadership skills being questioned.

POLAR POLITICAL PARTIES

The last posting of this blog was about how some major figures of our current political environment have implemented anti-federalist strategies. The posting first identified a list of constitutional attributes taken from an analytical work by Thomas E. Mann and Norman J. Ornstein: “debate and deliberation,” “divided powers competing with one another,” “regular order” and “avenues to limit and punish corruptions.”¹ It then outlined how each of these attributes helps make our political system a federalist arrangement.² Generally, these attributes provide the political “infrastructure” that permits the interchange between the vast array of factions and interests that make up our political landscape. Further using Mann's and Ornstein's analysis, this posting continues in this vein by focusing in on one of the current conditions that challenges the federalist nature of our politics and governance.

Before getting into the specific anti-federalist condition, in order to appreciate its detrimental effects, one needs to understand a bit of its context. Politics in a democracy revolve around a few processes that allow the system to work. One is the funneling of political demands. Each of us has our own view of the perfect world and our own situated reality falls short of that individual view. Some of us readily express demands that we feel will help us get our world closer to our view of perfection. Most of us don't express those demands and are part of what Richard Nixon called the “Silent Majority.” Few of us are very vehement in expressing our demands. There is a relation between our views and the probability of whether we will be silent or expressive.

There are a variety of ways to describe or even, to some degree, measure the variety of opinion that exists out there. A common way to visualize this range of ideas and ideals is to describe a particular person's positions as reflecting a degree of purity on an ideological scale. What seems useful in this language is the left-right ideological spectrum in which liberal to conservative beliefs are arranged from extreme beliefs in one direction to the extreme beliefs in the other direction. While there are a lot of individual positions lodged at different levels of ideological strength along the spectrum, people generally fall at one point or other on this spectrum. The fit, for any given person, will not usually be perfect, but by and large, people will identify as belonging at some imprecise point on the continuum from strongly liberal to strongly conservative. And how does the American population fall along this continuum? Roughly, they “fall” on a bell-shaped curve with fewer people at the extremes and the bulk of the population in the middle or the neutral position. The other general characteristic of this distribution is that, generally, people in the middle of this curve tend to know less about politics and political issues and care less about them as well.

With this in mind, consider the following:

Fundamentally, the problem [of undermining our constitutional attributes] stems from a mismatch between America's political parties and its constitutional system. For a variety of reasons, … the two major political parties in recent decades have become increasingly homogeneous and have moved toward ideological poles [or the extremes]. Combined with the phenomenon of the permanent campaign, whereby political actors focus relentlessly on election concerns and not on problem-solving, the parties now behave more like parliamentary parties than traditional, big-tent, and pragmatic American parties.³

What this means is that the traditional role of parties to funnel demands is skewed by the narrowing of interests that a political party will represent. It is also skewed to those demands emanating from those who are represented by the more extreme ends of the political spectrum. These people are usually considered the base of a party – those highly motivated, highly “knowledgeable” people who get excited over political developments. I put the word knowledgeable in quotes because these people's knowledge consists of what the extremists view is of the truth, which by any objective estimation is highly biased and often wrong or highly misleading in its lack of veracity. This tends to be true for those at both ends of the extreme.

With these limitations, our system suffers because it becomes much more difficult for citizens to become federated with those who don't fall on the same end of the ideological spectrum – which is most of us. Positions are defined by their perceived moral standing and less by their practicality, vis-a-vis, the social or economic problems they address. Take the gun control/safety issue. Those who are against any restraints on the selling of weapons and ammunition have made the provisions of the Second Amendment – which by most accounts are difficult to interpret – as inalienable; that is, a right with no limitations. We don't hold that position for any of the rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights. The result is that practical approaches to meeting the levels of deaths and injuries caused by or, at least, assisted by the inordinate number of weapons in general distribution are beyond our system's ability to implement. Stated another way, government is being prohibited from providing its most basic service: to protect its citizens. This is but one of the issues that government is finding more and more difficult to address.

1This list is quoted from work by political scholars, Thomas E. Mann and Norman J. Ornstein. See Mann, T. E. and Ornstein, N. J. (2013). Finding the common good in an era of dysfunctional governance.  Daedalus: Journal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 142 (2), 15-24.

2Mann and Ornstein don't use the term federalist; that's my terminology. The use of the term is explained in my last posting.

3Ibid., p. 18.

ACCOUNTING FOR FEDERALIST ATTRIBUTES

Civics classes often try to hit on summary ideas that capture the constitutional nature of our government. One thing that needs to be explained to students is that as opposed to most nations, ours is not developed around a sense of an historical people that can trace its origins to either prehistoric times or the ancient world. We are a people who got started at an identifiable time – the early 1600s. Our history is well documented from the time of its origins. We are not a “biological” people or anything that can be described as a race; we are a people based on a set of ideas. Civics classes are where students usually are introduced to these distinguishing ideas and, in order to simplify this most complicated reality – complicated in the sense that the implications of this truth go a long way in explaining why our politics are what they are – teachers need ways to view our system that can generalize and simplify more of these complications. Thomas E. Mann and Norman J. Ornstein¹ provide us with a shorthand set of what can be described as attributes. They claim that these attributes have been, more so than not, descriptors of our constitutional makeup. They also argue that our current politics are threatening the actuality of these attributes and therefore it has become more difficult to govern.

While these writers don't attribute their list of constitutional attributes to what I consider the prevailing political construct of the founding generation – federalism – I think their list amply demonstrates the type of politics that that construct helped institutionalize. While individually each of the attributes might be descriptive of other systems, their combination and the way they are actually put into effect within our system give them their American character. They are “debate and deliberation,” “divided powers competing with one another,” “regular order” and “avenues to limit and punish corruptions.” Perhaps the terms “considering different sides,” “separation of powers,” “usual ways of doing things,” and “ways to stop cheating” might be more appropriate for younger students. As a set, these attributes support the central federal ideal of equal and highly individual entities – be they individual persons or groups – coming together to form a federated union for purposes of governing themselves. Let us look at each attribute and point out how our American version of them promotes federated politics.

Many systems can boast that they are based on debate and deliberation. A view of C-SPAN several times a week, for example, shows how the British Parliament members yell at each other, during Questions, over policy proposals and decisions. Mann and Ornstein point out that we don't call our legislative body a parliament; we call it a congress. The difference in this distinction is one of emphasis. While in the British system, the majority party can pretty well ram its agenda through in the form of laws, regulations, and other policy decisions, our Congress is based more on a sense of coming together as a whole and deciding what the best course of action is. Our form of debate and deliberation was set in motion by our framers. Given the potential for national expansion, both in terms of population and in terms of geography, the framers foresaw a vastly diverse politics with a large array of interests and concerns. This approach to governance which relies on coming together guarantees a slow process in formulating policy. But it assumed good will; that is, a level of tolerance and forbearing that would lead to compromise. “This model would enable the representatives [in government, particularly Congress] to understand each other's viewpoints and ultimately reach some form of consensus in policy-making.”²

Yet, isn't this type of debate likely to become stagnant? If there are a multitude of interests from a vast geographically diverse land and the system is depending on agreement among opposing parties, aren't the chances extremely high that such a nation's politics will become stuck? I would argue that in order for such a system to work at all in an efficient and timely fashion, federalist values need to be prominent among the citizenry. There has to be an overarching ethos that has strong communal values and emotions to provide a cultural support for this type of governance. When we wonder why Washington doesn't work anymore, perhaps much of the answer lies in our abandonment of federalist values and supporting emotions. This blog in the past has provided an historical account of the diminishing strength of such values and emotions among our population.

Given the time factor – of inherent delays – our system needs to be more conscious of its “regular order.” Mann and Ornstein focus on the following essential procedural elements: in terms of law making – regularity, opportunity for amendments, openness, transparency, and timeliness; in terms of executing the law – regulation, transparency, responsiveness, and articulation, and in terms of judicial judgment – fairness, access to legal representation, ability to appeal, and lack of arbitrariness. These encourage an informed citizenry and a citizenry that is not unduly burdened by procedural obstacles in its attempts to become involved. Also, citizens need to feel a certain level of reasonable empowerment; they need to believe that participation is not a waste of time.

Last, our system's need for legitimacy is heightened when one understands its reliance on voluntary participation. In turn, the concern for limiting and punishing corruption becomes even more central not only in our ability to provide good governance but to ensure the system works as it was designed – both in terms of its ideals and in terms of practical political concerns. We count on people believing that they are not being taken in or taken advantage of; therefore, procedural polices need to be able to detect and respond to incidents of corruption in viable and effective ways.

According to Mann and Ornstein, each of these attributes is currently being undermined. Our system is not living up to the demands upon which each attribute relies. There are several reasons for this and the shortcomings are manifested in a variety of ways. But overall, the problem is that our politics have become excessively polarized. The polarization is debasing these federalist attributes. I will further elucidate, in future postings, how this is taking place.

1Mann, T. E. and Ornstein, N. J. (2013). Finding the common good in an era of dysfunctional governance. Daedalus: Journal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 142 (2), 15-24.

2Ibid., p. 17.

A WILL TO BARGAIN

In this blog's last posting, I described a metaphor that is useful in conceptualizing the nature of morality. By using the metaphor of wealth and its associated idea of bookkeeping, I utilized George Lakoff's¹ observation that people use these concepts in order to give the non-tangible idea of morality some substance. Central to this metaphor is the notion of credits and debits to account for the natural mental tendency in which we think of morality as a means of tracking how we and others interact with each other. So, for example, if person A does person B a good turn, A acquires a credit toward B and B a debit toward A. The disposition of either A or B is to act in the future in such a way so as to balance the account between them. What Lakoff does not discuss is how universal this tendency is. As for American society, I can vouch from personal experience that this cognitive psychologist's account rings true. I hate to think of all the debits I have accumulated in my years of social interactions.

Let me extend this metaphor a bit further. What are the calculations people make in their fundamental commitment to their national community? How strong is that commitment? Do we make a string of calculations as we make decisions to participate in the social activities of community life or do we have a general commitment of such a fundamental nature that our decision to participate barely becomes conscious to us? That is, do we hold a commitment to our social world that elicits our loyalty or, at least, our compliance to the prevailing social norms and laws? Think of the challenge: life presents many obstacles to us in our ability to achieve our aims and goals. Do we have the sort of commitment that overcomes those short term inconveniences and lack of resources that stand in the way of getting the things that we want? For some, the inconveniences and/or lack of resources are more than mere obstacles, and can be of such magnitude that their lives become a constant state of serious frustration. In such cases, what can serve as a source that spurs sufficient loyalty or, at least, compliance with what is? William A. Galston² gives us an analytical account of this calculation.

Why does anyone bargain? The parties so engaged are motivated by the desire to acquire something that otherwise he or she cannot acquire, at least not legally. If we apply this metaphor to a community, either local or national, we extend our willingness to “play ball” within the confines of the prevailing social expectations which can be expressed by that society's norms and laws. By viewing this decision as our part of a deal with all other citizens, what is our payoff? The payoff, according to Galston's analysis, is our enjoyment of the common good. Here is how Galston describes the deal:

The common good requires a balance between the benefits and burdens of social cooperation such that all (or nearly all) citizens believe that the contribution they are called on to make leaves them with a net surplus. If they cease to believe that, they will try to lighten these burdens, either by evading some taxation or, in extreme cases, by leaving the community through exit (for individuals) or secession (for groups).³

This extension of the wealth metaphor, I believe, provides a useful language for civics teachers to deal with the federalist value, equality.

To further illustrate where this idea originates, let me pass on an experiment that Galston describes. I will alter his description a bit to make a point. Let us say that you and I are in a room and a third person comes in and pulls out a dollar – no, let's make it one hundred dollars. And I, who happen to need the money, am awfully interested in what the person has to say – so are you. He says to me, here; you and your friend can keep the money if you both agree to the amounts you (that's I) feel each of you will keep. There is one proviso. You both have to agree to the divided amounts that you (I) propose. I divide the money $90 for me – as I said, I really need the money – and $10 for you. You balk and disagree. You say that's not fair. I say, well $10 is better than nothing; you'd better take it. You say, you (I) can stuff it. No deal is made and we both leave empty-handed. The actual experiment had only a dollar at stake, but the general result was usually the same when the “divider” offered the other too little. There were in these cases behaviors that reflected a concern for equality. The lesson being that if one is treated in such an unequal way – as being offered too little of a resource – a person will refuse to participate. Apparently, a person will cease participating in social interactions if his or her dignity or integrity is given too little concern.

In real life, it is amazing how much people will put up with in order to go along with expectations, but there are limits, and rebellions or withdrawals do take place. What the actual conditions that spur these attempts at changing the norms and laws or of just deciding to “play” elsewhere are is worth studying. But what is also worth studying, as many have, are those social forces that help and, in most cases guarantee, ongoing allegiance to keep the system in place.

Writers have pointed out certain institutions that assist in maintaining these bonds between us. Religion, language, common ancestors, cultural beliefs, and the like are all binding social elements. Abraham Lincoln mentioned the “mystic chords of memory” in attempting to stave off an impending civil war. What seems central to the bargain is a common enough sense of what the common good is. Constitutionally, Galston points out the function of the Preamble to provide, albeit general and vague, a list of elements that constitutes what we as a nation believe to be the common good. Good enough, but do we need more meat on that bone in order to sustain what we are willing to sacrifice in order to maintain our individual willingness to go along, if not participate in an active way to sustain the union? We seem to be constantly confronted with such divisive positions in our political discourse that, I believe, raises the question: are we tempting some to exit or some groups to secede?

The most recent bit of political discourse that at least on the surface concerns me is the discourse over gun rights or gun safety – even the language is in contention. Associated with this debate have been stated concerns over whether our government is preparing to rip up the Constitution and institute an authoritarian or totalitarian regime. If so, we obviously all need to be armed. This is extreme language and it is not dissuaded by high ranking officials who count on these extremists' votes to get elected. Probably nothing will come of this type of language and we can chalk it up to high-strung partisanship. Surely, such extremity in our political debates has been flung around before; look at the animosity President Franklin Roosevelt engendered when in 1940, word got out that he was running for a third term.⁴

What needs to be reflected upon is our own individual standards by which we measure our tolerance for policy we don't like. The language of the grand bargain, represented by our constitution, is a good way to engage in that reflection and to formulate our evaluations of our own standards and those of others. Civics classrooms are a good and safe place to begin those reflections and evaluations.

1Lakoff, G. (2002). Moral politics: How liberals and conservatives think. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press.

2Galston, W. A. (2013). The common good: Theoretical content, practical utility. Daedalus: Journal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 142 (2), Spring, pp. 9-14.

3Ibid., p. 11.

4See Leuchtenburg, W. E. (1963). Franklin D. Roosevelt and the new deal: 1932-1940. New York, NY: Harper Torchbooks.

TALKING MORALITY

Topics that don't get much attention in our civics or government classes are, one, how citizens interact with each other and, two, how citizens should interact with each other. Part of the reason for this is that the language used in these courses has to do mainly with the structural makeup of our governmental institutions and of those institutions that interact with government. So these courses have units of study on such topics as the presidency and political parties and lobbying organizations. But on how citizen A treats citizen B or how citizen A should treat citizen B, there is little said. George Lakoff,¹ I believe, gives us one way to look at and talk about these very basic civic concerns.

Before describing Lakoff's proposed language, let me point out another obstacle in treating one of these topics. By addressing how citizens should treat one another, civics broaches the subject of morality. As I have pointed out before, this gets touchy – should our public instruction be about promoting moral messages? I have made it clear and have presented a justification for my position that yes, we do need to deal with moral questions in the classroom and that that treatment should be guided by a federalist moral code. Summarily, that code holds that, as a trump value, goodness lies in behavior and policy that advance societal welfare. This blog has dedicated significant space to describing and explaining this code and the reasons I have for promoting its use.

So, therefore, the language one adopts to deal with these two topics – how citizens interact and how they should interact – has a descriptive challenge and a normative challenge. Lakoff begins his treatment by pointing out that much of our moral thinking and visualizing is dependent on metaphors. Why? Because morality is not a tangible entity. It is ephemeral, but has definite and practical implications in our lives. It is a qualitative aspect of life and it is essentially difficult to mentally conceive of it directly. Metaphors allow us to give this quality a more definite sense and with it a language by which to communicate its elements and its effects on us. A metaphor Lakoff identifies in order to visualize and talk about morality is wealth.

By using wealth, we can first give morality a quantitative dimension. And we can also use the extended metaphor of bookkeeping to relate that aspect of morality which has to do with either doing someone a good or a harm – central attributes of morality. So, for example, we can say that if I do you a good, you might perceive the result of such a good as placing the burden of a debt on you. Now think about the last time someone did something good for you. Chances are you felt a sense of obligation to that person and were disposed to return that favor with a favor so as to balance the books. Of course, this is all a metaphor, but it does reflect actual emotions. It also brings into play, through the language the metaphor activates, moral considerations. Lakoff, in his analysis, focuses on two moral principles this language permits: the positive-action principle and the debt-payment principle.

The positive-action principle is the general notion that morality is adhered to by people doing good things for each other. We should do favors, look after each other, help those in need, be charitable in both our treatment of others and how we refer to one another, and be disposed to be generally helpful and supportive of others. You can probably think of other ways a person can live up to the positive-action principle. The debt-payment principle, on the other hand, refers to the moral disposition to pay back. This might be to return a favor for a favor or to pay back a harm with a harm. This is carrying the bookkeeping metaphor to its logical extension. If someone does you a good, imposing a debit on you, you are called upon to return an equally valued good; but if someone does you a harm, imposing a credit on you, you are in position to say, “I'll make him/her pay” for the harm done to you. Now this type of language opens discussion to such modes of interaction between people that can be described as reciprocation (a good for a good), retribution (an authoritative harm for a harm – as when a person is punished by a governmental entity for committing a crime or a parent punishes a child for misbehavior), revenge (a non-authoritative harm for a harm – as when a person spreads a damaging rumor about someone who hurt his/her reputation). The language can also be used to talk about altruism, turning the other cheek, Karma sense of universal justice (“what goes around, comes around”), and the like.

In terms of federalist concerns, this language opens a way of talking about those interactions that promote societal welfare and those interactions that hurt or diminish societal welfare. It also points to the development of augmenting conflicts in society – language that can describe the development of cycles of revenge (for example, the Hatfields and the McCoys). The language itself is fairly neutral as to which course of action should be followed, but does highlight certain implications and realities that one sees as resulting from certain social policies of groups, organizations, and government. For example, if large corporations use their financial resources to funnel income to advantaged groups, how are such policies viewed? Are they seen as an unjustified, inflicted harm on those not advantaged? And if so, will those latter groups seek retribution or revenge? What factors influence the reaction of these latter groups? These are moral questions due to the fact that they relate to societal welfare. But these are not just moral questions; they are also practical ones. The answers to them relate to the interests of those involved.

1Lakoff, G. (2002). Moral politics: How liberals and conservatives think. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press.

SOME IDEAL REALITIES

How does a teacher during a time when excessive individualism and self-centered views prevail¹ get students to consider a more idealistic view of politics and governance? By adopting federation theory, as this blog proposes, to guide content choices in our civics and government curriculum, a teacher is being asked to introduce an overall idealistic vision. That is, a teacher would plan lessons that have students consider idealistic options in regards to both personal political behavior and governmental policy. One way to get such an educational aim off the ground is to present lessons that hit upon the more practical aspects of such a view. William A. Galston² provides help in devising such instruction.

Initially, it is useful to consider a main concern of federation theory. That is, this more communal view of politics and governance is centered on the idea that good governance is about trying to attain and maintain the common good. Of course, seeking the common good oftentimes flies in the face of trying to advance self-interest. It also questions a governmental/political construct that promotes individual aims and self defined values, such as the case with the prevailing construct – the natural rights perspective. Galston points out three types of factual conditions that highlight our need to consider this central concern of federation theory. He begins by pointing out that the very commonness of these facts almost make them invisible to us. We assume them in calculating our plans to advance our interests. Yet, as we consider them – as we should from time to time – we can more realistically understand and appreciate their importance in our ability to successfully fulfill our aims.

The first of these factual conditions is the existence of inherently social goods. Certain highly prized aspects of life demand social venues and modes of being in which those aspects take place. The venues or modes of behavior are social goods. For example, there is humor that demands a social arrangement (trying telling a joke to yourself). The same can be said for most games. But, life itself demands the existence of social goods (we are all vulnerable in some way or other all the time, but especially during certain segments of our lives such as in infancy or advanced age). Of course, we are social beings where even the most introverted person needs social outlets at times.

The second factual condition is our dependence on social linkages. We formulate, quite naturally, an array of social linkages. As just mentioned, we are social animals by nature and our interconnectedness sets our reality in such a way that the well-being of some will affect the well-being of others precisely because we are linked. Along with Galston, many writers have pointed out the ironic truth that oppression, for example, does not only claim a toll only the oppressed, but on the oppressor as well. Oppression eats away at our very humanness. Our enlightened self-interest is served when we meet our obligations within these social linkages. This is observed when we submit, for example, to socially responsible behavior such as when we voluntarily follow health mandates like vaccinating our children from infectious diseases. Yes, the rich oftentimes try to use their wealth to de-link themselves; they might pay for private security, for example. But sooner or later such strategies fall short when underfunded social services such as police cannot keep up with rising social problems like crime rates. We see this in some poorer countries where kidnappings are a chronic problem. The establishment and maintenance of a healthy economy, from which we all benefit, counts on law-abiding communities either locally or nationally.

The third factual condition is what Galston calls “the good of the common.” The common life takes place in either physical or technologically created places. Our behaviors within these places, either if one behaves by oneself or in social groupings, will very likely affect the quality of a particular place to serve its designated function. Places usually need to be clean enough, safe enough, accessible enough, and resourced enough to meet the needs of those who want to use them. This calls for socially responsible behavior by those who use these places.

Social goods, social linkages, and common places are not an exhaustive list of factual conditions that are practical aspects of the common good. Ironically, Galston points out, our very conflicts trying to determine what exactly constitutes the common good is very much an aspect of the common good – the very debates that oftentimes challenge the prevailing vision of the common good are part and parcel of that good. Educators can use these realities to create case study accounts that students might analyze to identify, appreciate, and even debate either how the conditions support or challenge our social and individual interests. Take the condition, social goods, as when a teenager abuses a social media by posting inappropriate material – should there be mechanisms that restrain that practice? Should terrorist groups be able to publish directions on how to build a bomb? How does bullying affect a school's ability to fulfill its purposes? Should children be seen as the sole responsibility of parents or do communities have a responsibility or even a sense of “ownership” over all of their children? Each of these questions can serve as a topic for a lesson – a lesson that has the student delve into our social realities and our concerns for the common good from a practical perspective.

1Twenge, J. M. & Campbell, W. K. (2009). The narcissism epidemic: Living in the age of entitlement. New York, NY: Free Press.

2Galston, W. A. (2013). The common good: Theoretical content, practical utility. Daedalus: Journal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 142 (2), Spring, pp. 9-14.