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.