A FEDERAL NUCLEAR OPTION?

In the news of late, there has been an ongoing story regarding the Senate of the United States. The majority leader of that body has been threatening to change the rules of the Senate to put a crimp in its filibuster practice – a change known as the “nuclear option.” The filibuster is a procedural strategy by which a minority can prevent a bill or presidential nomination for a particular governmental position from being considered, debated, and voted for yea or nae. In short, the filibuster permits a minority of senators to stop what the majority wants to approve unless the majority can get sixty out of the hundred senators to vote for cloture. A lot of the coverage emphasizes the obstructive function the filibuster plays in stopping legislation. One can reasonably argue that the current use of the filibuster is seriously hampering the political system from functioning; that is, through the excessive practice of the filibuster, the Congress has not been able to address serious problems such as high levels of unemployment. Whether this is true or not, one can agree that carrying on a filibuster by a minority of senators can effectively stop desired policy by the majority. Under the current rules, many say, it is too easy to conduct a filibuster and it does not extract enough of a cost on those participating.

How does the filibuster rate as a federalist practice? One of the attributes of a federated system I have identified in this blog – particularly a liberated federalist system – is that its policy forming process, through an appropriate structure – at the national level, that would be the Congress – should seek as much consensus as possible. This is especially true at the national level since the resulting policy will affect a wide diversity of local conditions across our national landscape. Consensus, by its very nature, means that policy has to be acceptable to varying populations and interests. This demands a narrow acceptable range of policies. Proposed policies that are at significant variance from the mean of political opinion should be discarded. So if a proposal can be judged to be outside the main body of acceptable public policy, the process is legitimately within its federalist bounds to obstruct the acceptance of such policy even if the majority is seeking it.

Now you might ask: how can the majority of elected officials strive to implement policy outside the mean of public opinion? Don't these politicians depend on getting votes from people to keep their jobs? And won't those people look on these politicians with disfavor if they are voting for unpopular legislation? The answers are yes in each case, but it's not all that simple. In fact, it is complicated on several dimensions. For example, look at our farm policy. One might argue that socialism is unpopular in the US, but we regularly vote for socialist policies. Our farm legislation, that calls on a strong government presence in the agriculture industry, is very popular among citizens who would otherwise vehemently be opposed to socialism. They just don't see subsidizing farmers, particularly large corporate farmers, as examples of socialism, but it is. All of this suggests that a lot of what is favored and what is not is highly subject to language manipulation. Effectively symbolizing what one wants can be very useful in framing issues and in proposing policies – useful to those who are seeking otherwise unpopular policies.

But of course, all of this is subject to being subjective. What's outside the bounds in one person's perspective is all-American in another person's view. And all of this is starting to affect how we see our government. While government and government officials are generally no strangers to discontent among the citizenry, current polls indicate a seriously low “favorability” toward our congress and our congresspeople. One poll rates North Korea above the US Congress. How does such sentiment affect a future possibility when our congress has to pass legislation that calls for sacrifice? This can be potentially a serious situation and Congress needs to be highly sensitive to the effect low favor-ables have on its ability to function under challenging crises.

Now I might be making more of this than what is merited. The history of bad-mouthing our congress is long and robust. But that does not mean it should be an issue that our legislators should ignore. We all know about Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington conducting a talking filibuster in the Senate. Many have called for the re-institution of the talking filibuster. Sen. Rand Paul the other day conducted one to showcase his opposition to the confirmation of John Brennan as CIA director. There he stood for hours until nature forced him to cease his symbolic gesture. Perhaps that re-institution as a necessary form of filibustering – as opposed to an opted form – will be the proper balance between banning the filibuster and leaving things as they are. My point here is not to go over all the ins and outs concerning the filibuster, but to explain that one of the supportive arguments of the filibuster – one mostly ignored – is that there is a sense that structural elements that are in place to slow the policy making process are elements to further the process's deliberative quality and to strive to as much consensus as is possible. Hence, any options that are to be considered in changing that process should be sensitive to, one, keeping a meaningful level of deliberation and, two, encouraging consensus. Both of these aims would be furthered by deliberative processes that are not undue obstacles and by language that doesn't aim at obscuring what is being sought, but is clear and aboveboard.

A STEP TOWARD REASONED ARGUMENT

One of the more difficult things a civics or social studies teacher does is to conduct a discussion that becomes contentious. When dealing with young people, debates solicit comments that reflect emotional positions. These positions, in turn, often mirror the beliefs of parents. When those beliefs also, for one reason or another, satisfy the aesthetic proclivities of the student, then this generates a lot of emotion directed toward defending the position. While I am not stating that students might not have rational reasons for their arguments, chances are that for many students, these stated conclusions have little or no thought-out bases for them.

This kind of thing doesn't happen every day. The issue under discussion in a particular lesson has to meet certain conditions before the class will engage in this kind of arguing. From my personal teaching experience, I remember being almost overwhelmed when I introduced the issue of abortion one day. Opinions came quickly and furiously with not much tolerance for opposing ideas. This was the case on both sides of the question: should abortions be allowed under the law? My training called for me to ask, in response to a stated position, a Socratic question or two in order to get the student to reflect rationally on his or her position. The aim was not to convince students of a particular position, but to have them reflect on whatever their position was. I tried. But I have to admit that I was not very successful in getting much reflection that day. What I did get was a lot of heated, unfounded conclusions with contempt for those who did not agree.

Needless to say, I had better days. I think, though, that one thing that could have helped me or any teacher in a similar situation was to understand the various ways that arguments could be organized. Philip Selznick¹ identifies two ways: the use of axiomatic rationalism and the use of positivist rationalism. I will make some comment on axiomatic rationalism in this posting and address positivist rationalism in a future posting.

Axiomatic rationalism, in its purest form, relies on ideas and the mind to search for the truth. This is opposed to relying on real experience. Let me demonstrate. Do you believe individuals have rights? If your answer is yes – and I would be shocked if it weren't – why do you say yes? An argument for this position which relies on ideas and does not refer to reality would be arrived at by a continuous string of whys until the respondent finally says that's just the way he/she feels about it. Logic takes you just so far. There comes a point at which one has to rely on a postulate or assumption about life or the nature of the real. Every ideology or philosophical system at some point has to ground itself in such an unprovable postulate or assumption. Take Marxist belief in dialectical materialism. Yes, Karl Marx traced a history of mankind to make the point that all social development was based on class warfare, but was the case really made? Could it not be the fact that changes in our social history have been the result of other conflicts – those of ethnicity, religion, cultural proclivities, and the like or by non- conflicts such as innovations like social media? But if one allowed for these other factors to be considered as fundamental ones and as influential in a manner outside an economic perspective, the whole Marxian ideology falls apart. The extent to which one needs to accept dialectical materialism in order to be a Marxist is quite high and that type of commitment is using axiomatic rationalism in the end.

Let me provide another example. I have made the point that currently our nation holds as the primary political construct the natural rights construct. One of the philosophical writers who provides a thought out argument supporting this construct is the late Robert Nozick. In answering the question I offered above – do individuals have rights? – he gives a well thought out argument supporting the yes position one would expect. He does such a good job that he lays out an entire defense for libertarianism. Yet, his argument relies on a fundamental assumption; that is, each of us is a separate being with a sacredness attached to that separateness. Due to that sacredness, it is unjust to take from some to benefit others as with welfare programs that are run by government through their coercive power to tax in order to pay for such programs. But why should we believe in this notion of sacredness as Nozick defines it? Why can't a sense of sacredness just as easily be used to defend welfare in the sense that the needy, because of their sacredness, deserve the basics of life? This simplifies the argument, but my contention is that at some point Nozick has to rely on an unprovable assumption. As Selznick writes:

The postulational method is at best pseudo-naturalist. It may invoke aspects of experience and may claim empirical support for various presuppositions, generalizations, and conclusions. But the postulates are not truly open to scrutiny, and the conclusions rest on chains of reasoning insulated from patient study of variables and contexts.²

So what does a teacher take away from all of this? He or she should spend some time organizing a discussion so that statements of fact – those that relate to experiential reality – are distinguished from postulates and assumptions. Students can have exercises that have them do this kind of analysis for given arguments. For example, take a famous historical document – such as the Declaration of Independence – divide it among small groups and have students go through the sections they have and determine which are statements of reality and which are postulates and assumptions. Nowhere in the document, for instance, is the statement, “all men are created equal,” proven or subject to scrutiny – it's self evident. Perhaps being able to make such distinctions should be a prerequisite to engaging in normal discussions and debates. At least then students can have an intellectual tool necessary to distinguish between statements not based on evidence – but perhaps on raw emotion – and conclusions not based on reasoned arguments.

1Selznick, P. (1992). The moral commonwealth: Social theory and the promise of community. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

2Ibid., p. 49.

WORK SOCIALIZING POLITICAL VALUES

How do you see work? I'm sure it's more than just a place to hang out from early morning to early evening. Nothing defines us more to others than what we do for a living. At any social gathering, one of the first questions asked is: what is it you do? Work doesn't just allow us to put food on the table and a roof over our heads; it goes a long way in determining how we think of ourselves and how we think of others. Work also plays important roles in how we see power, authority, responsibility, collaboration, politics, and related social characteristics.

In political science, there is a branch of the discipline that is dedicated to explaining how people acquire their ideas regarding politics and government. That branch is political socialization and usually the scholars who delve into this area of interest focus on families, communities, and schools. But there are other socializing agents in society and they do affect how one sees his/her government or politics. These can be the media, churches, and the world of employment. There is a reciprocal relation when it comes to work. Some of us are attracted to more authoritarian environments, while others feel they must work at jobs that allow a great deal of latitude. In both cases, initial preferences are further reinforced and legitimized by the expectations of the workplace. I was a teacher who was, on a day to day basis, physically constrained – one school building I worked in didn't even have windows. My son, on the other hand, has a job that has him traveling all over Tampa. Now, were we attracted to our respective employment due to our personalities, or did the jobs affect the persons we eventually became? Probably the effect goes both ways.

George Lakoff¹ writes of two views concerning employment and both, I believe, relate to how an individual sees both government and politics. He writes about how we tend to form metaphors in our minds to make sense of the world we live in and this includes how we make sense both of the world of work and of the world of politics we encounter. In terms of work, Lakoff identifies the Work Reward metaphor and the Work Exchange metaphor. Each reflects different views of power, authority, and legitimate accounting.

Before getting into each metaphor, let me remind you of a recurring theme in this blog; that is of the accounting we naturally engage in as we interact with others. This accounting takes place when one person does a good turn for another. When this happens, the giver of the good turn accrues a credit from the receiver and the receiver takes on a debit. The amount of each is affected by several factors – for example, whether the good turn is solicited or unsolicited. A solicited favor earns the receiver an even greater debit than otherwise would be the case, but even when not solicited, a debit is accrued. Think about it: your next door neighbor comes over with a platter of food for you as a good gesture. You, in good spirit, accept the platter. Even if you didn't enjoy the food, you will probably go on about how good it was the next time you see the neighbor. Beyond that, you will feel that you “owe” the neighbor a good turn in the future. That's just the way it is.

When you get a job, there might be some initial sense that the employer is doing you a favor. If nothing else, he or she is ending the ordeal of looking for work – a task so disagreeable that I always unreasonably felt, along with moving, it should accrue a paycheck. So after you land the job you begin to work. How do you see your employer? That's what Lakoff addresses.

Lakoff describes the Work as Reward view as one heavily ensconced in the idea of a superior-inferior relation. You work and the employer rewards you with pay. Simple. When so defined, the relation between you and your employer is one noted by deference for the employer's wisdom, authority, and ability to not only issue reward, but also punishment for disobedience. This latter aspect can even include being fired. The metaphor is supported by a vertical, hierarchical view of management in the workplace. Under such an understanding, one is encouraged to view politics as a top-down oriented activity. There are those in power and those not so empowered. One's responsibility is to get along, do one's part, and get paid – I mean get rewarded.

On the face of it, one is tempted to say, of course, one works and one gets paid; what else is there? The Work as Exchange metaphor has an important, albeit subtle difference from the Reward metaphor. In that alternative view, the socialization it promotes can be meaningful. First, work is seen as a value. That is, the worker approaches his or her job not so much as accepting a good turn, but as providing a good turn by offering his or her valuable skills. The worker, in this metaphor, does not relinquish his/her labor, but provides it so that an exchange can take place. The employer possesses his/her money and that is what is exchanged for the valued labor. Under what conditions? The conditions are negotiated before the exchange takes place and are contracted under an agreement. The contract can be formal and written – it usually is – or it can be verbal. All such conditions, such as promotions, are viewed in this light. Pay is not a reward; it is an element in an exchange. The exchange is totally voluntary. There is no sense of obedience. If the worker is dismissed, he or she is not so much punished; rather, the employer has refrained from his or her voluntary participation in a continued exchange. The worker, in like manner, can leave employment not to punish the employer, but because the worker no longer wants to voluntarily take part in the exchange. Instead of a superior-inferior relation, the exchange view places the parties on a more equal standing.

Now you might say, bottom line, the results are the same whether one holds a Reward or Exchange metaphor. But I think that if a place of employment opts for language of Reward or, instead, a language of Exchange, especially for young workers, the socializing effect can be different. For a political, mental construct that promotes a metaphor of shared and voluntary participation – as is the case with liberated federalism – the metaphor of Work Exchange is more conducive. It more readily lends itself to expecting horizontal authority structures and to clear and spelled out working conditions.

While politics in the workplace is usually not addressed in civics classrooms, I think there is a place for it. Work can be introduced as an institution that can help encourage active participation in the political modes of the polity – both locally and nationally. Of course, not all work sites can be the paramount of openness in regard to workplace politics. The military readily comes to mind as a place where hierarchical authority is essential. But all enlightened leadership is an example of more open communication and decision-making given the restraints that define the nature of the work and of the responsibilities with which the workplace is charged. Probably some of the factors that might allow for a more exchange-oriented metaphor would include the level of creativity called for in the work. But again, all job types need not hammer on the employees' heads how “inferior” they are, but instead would benefit by communicating the integrity and dignity that the employees deserve. Such workplaces promote federalist values.

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

HOW CLOSENESS CAN BE TRULY CLOSE

Federalism calls for close relations between entities within an association. The term association is what I have called, in this blog, a federated arrangement between people and groups. The closeness to which I am referring, in terms of the relation between individuals, needs to be fleshed out a bit. That is the purpose of this posting.

There are two dimensions at play: the intellectual and the emotional. Intellectually, federated partners need to know and understand the general principles of human behavior and the particular characteristics of those with which one is dealing. As I stated in my last posting, we are uniquely put together; that is, given the factors of physiology, nurturing agents (parents, teachers, priests/ministers), culture, community, and the like, each of us becomes a unique person. Who we are are the sum total of personality characteristics along with physical characteristics. As I am sure anyone knows, the early “formative” years of one's life are very important in the development of these characteristics. Our social life, therefore, can be seen as the interplay between individuals with all the characteristics involved. Probably the most important federalist aspect of these relations is the level of respect that is expressed between fellow members. Due to the variance among individuals, gaining and granting respect can often be challenging.

In this, one is well served if one can generate and maintain genuine affection for one's fellows, but that affection should not be clouded with false representations or excessive sentimentality toward those with whom one collaborates. That is, one should not let excessive friendliness or sentiment interfere with either the judgments of others' performances, loyalty, or motivations. This is not easy to do. When parties are close, one tends not to see what is really going on with these individuals, either as individuals or as social beings. One is apt to make excuses for shortcomings or one is too eager to show or bestow advantages to those we consider our friends. When, due to friendship, false judgments or unwarranted benefits are given, two things result: it encourages within the friend a false self-image of his or her talents and contributions and/or it might slight others who are not benefited by any special relation. When the beneficiary becomes aware of his/her limitation, the unwarranted rewards undermine true respect in that such interactions demonstrate the shortcomings of the benefactor – in that he or she can't obviously judge performance – or it raises the question of how the recipient can justly earn the rewards bestowed on him or her. In any case, the whole practice of favoritism, especially in extreme doses, erodes the federalist principles of merit and equality.

The emotional ties between federated partners are best expressed by merely communicating and demonstrating genuine care. It doesn't preclude the practice of extending personal favors, but such favors are conditional. Let me express a belief many might find disagreeable or even antithetical. Limitless, unconditional “love” is a destructive ideal. Relations that are so defined become abusive, degrading (to all parties concerned), and unappreciated. Even if one feels the sense that one has an unconditional love for another, one should not either excessively communicate it and definitely should not act in such a way that an unlimited flow of benefits results. To maintain respect, each party should feel and want to engage in reciprocal rewards for acts that benefit any of the parties in the relationship. Love should not preclude the accounting that one naturally keeps when either party is giving or receiving a reward or unsolicited benefit. At times, when the scales get skewed too much and resulting abuse materializes, “tough love” might be called for and there is no relation too close to escape this accounting. Even the relation among spouses, parent and child (when one needs to take into account the maturity level of the child), relatives, or the buddy who might have saved your life, your job, or your marriage, ultimately, at some level, accounting conditions have to be established or understood. A lot of this is subtle and below the radar, but it is meaningfully understood by those involved. Probably the relation that comes closest to unconditional love is that of a parent for his or her children. But even there, in the extreme, parents need to establish, if not limits to love, then limits to the benefits or “rewards” the parent might extend to his or her offspring. Beyond those limits, continued benefits help no one.

One might interpret the above as a call for transactional relations: relations noted by “tit for tat” interactions. Another saying describing transactional relations is “You scratch my back; I'll scratch yours.” This is a very conscious approach to the accounting mentioned above. Such a view depletes any emotional attachment and makes personal relations accounting exercises. This raw approach is hard to maintain and lends itself to people playing games with how much a good turn is worth and how one might seek and secure a deal: two favors paid for one favor offered. Manipulations often characterize these relations and meaningfully close relations become illusive if not right down impossible. If transactional relations become the common mode for social interactions, the common welfare is easily lost since such concerns do not lend themselves to that kind of loyalty or commitment.

Like most of what I describe and explain in this blog, relations between federated partners are nuanced and difficult. They are not very conducive to straightforward conceptualizing. These relations, when successful, seek balancing between what appear to be opposing concerns. A lot of what is perceived as opposites often are so because of how our popular culture treats these various factors. Yet there is something about dignity and integrity that transcends how our media, for example, treat such relational elements such as love, care, concern, friendliness, loyalty, anger, joy, empathy, and other aspects of our social interactions. In all of them, we need these elements to further clarify who we and others are no matter how illusive the truth might be. True meaning in life and of life counts so much on the health of our relations. Let them be based, as much as we can stand, on honesty and dignity with a touch of common sense sensitivity.

THE COMMUNAL PLANE

The last posting reviewed the very real concern a constitution has to address: the shortcomings of human nature. Yet much of this blog has been dedicated to promoting political and governing ideas and ideals that are based on the human potential for living in communal arrangements. What's it going to be? Are we doomed to being on constant guard against the devious aims of others or are we living among a sea of caring and collaborative partners in our efforts to further the welfare of this republic? This duality or, better stated, nuanced reality reminds me of childhood warnings and encouragements: generally, the outside world was presented to me as a place one should care for and one that was populated with good people worthy of my concern. Yet warnings were repeatedly issued: don't get into a stranger's car; don't go with a stranger who asks you to follow; don't take candy from a stranger. I never thought of questioning this inconsistency. I somehow understood that both messages were prudent. We are just living in that kind of world – get used to it.

How does this complication affect our constitutional thinking? How does federalism accommodate these opposing strains of human concern? Here's my take. I see our constitutional compact as a two-planed agreement. The two planes set the basic rules for several relational types: the relation between entities (persons and groups), the relation between an entity and the government, and the relation between our government and the governments of other nations. Transcending all of these relations is the aim of establishing binding partnerships. So one way to conceptualize all of this is to analogize it as efforts to establish and maintain partnerships between one entity and another. Sometimes, in terms of our relations with other citizens, we know them, but mostly we don't. So the best way to think of it is to ask what we need to do in order to formulate a partnership with someone we don't know and ask how to lighten up our protective provisions for those we do know and trust. If that is the case, what does the agreement need to include in order that a person might be able to sleep at night? One needs to first plan for the worst and then hope for the best. One needs to establish a fail safe foundation against the potential dangers others can pose and then allow for relations that can be close and rewarding.

My last posting addressed what it means to plan for the worst – how, for example, our founding fathers constructed the elements of our constitution with the strategic decision to pit interests against interests, power against power, and vice against vice. You are invited to read that posting. In this posting, I want to address the higher plane; that is, I want to describe how a federalist agreement promotes the communal bonds that reflect healthy partnerships.

While our constitution is quite clear in how it guards against the darker side of human nature, its approach in striving for the communal is primarily contained within its assumptions – most prominently, its belief that if people are allowed to be free, they will seek to attain the goals of the constitution. What goals?

[To] establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity …¹

The compact that follows these initial words of our constitution – the provisions for the structural elements of our government and the powers granted it – were devised and implemented in the belief that such a resulting government can accomplish these goals. I believe that when one thinks of the implications of such an act of faith, one comes up with several relational principles. In terms of how entities relate with each other, these principles include what follows in this posting.

Beyond the concerns for human greed and antagonistic acts, the relation between the entities also has communal links tying them together. The links can include the elements of the agreement, emotional ties, shared resources, shared interests, and mutual respect. When a collective, be it a nation, a business association, or a marriage, is working, its entities – citizens, business partners, spouses – might become blasé over what is being taken for granted or to what participants feel they are entitled. The more prudent among us understand that none of these blessings are guaranteed and all need attention. All or any of these links would make the entities closer and more committed to accomplishing the purposes of the agreement, and participants are smart to be cognizant of them and how they function. Again, this relation has to do with what Philip Selznick calls reciprocal advantage.² This principle is based on the understanding that a communal sense between the members of an arrangement increases the chances of success; it is sensitive to the whimsical nature of fortune and fate, and it avoids the disruption that a lack of dignity and integrity can cause any collective effort.

Let's get a bit more specific. We need to respect those people with which we are partnered or federated. That means we need to strive for intellectual communal commitment and, if possible, strive for the emotional attachments that strengthen the bonds between the partners. Intellectually, one needs to know and understand basic social principles that point to enlightened dispositions toward our fellow citizens. Emotionally, the challenge is a bit more demanding. It is difficult to force ourselves to feel a certain way. We have to be committed with our heads and, hopefully, with our hearts. I dare say that the emotion has to be directed to at least the association as a whole – a heartfelt loyalty – and if we can direct such feelings toward our fellow citizens, so much the better.

This is not so straightforward. Emotional ties need to be of a certain type. We need to care for what the fates of others are, but we need to place such ties within the higher goals and aims of the agreement. Not only does this place a responsibility on the entity, but also on the association or union. For example, can there be the case that our ties to our nation might come in conflict with our ties to our family? A constitution needs to be sensitive to such potential conflicts and should be so constructed that such eventualities are avoided at almost all costs. Where the line lies between such loyalties depends on the situation in question and I don't pretend to know where that line is. But what I do know is that one needs to be careful when one enters compacts and when one offers one's commitments – be cognizant and forthright over what one is willing to sacrifice.

Citizenship is a special case. We don't choose where we are born. But a nation built on federalist principles should make the point as to what its demands are and be very clear as to the following admonition: to physically stay in a federated nation implies one agrees with those principles not because of an accident of birth, not because one's family hails from that land, but because the citizen makes a conscious choice – a buy-in to respect the union, to respect the institutions of the people who inhabit the union, and to respect its other citizens.

Summarily, respect is necessary on two levels: toward fellow entities and for the governmental framework. Let me continue this posting with some words about respecting other entities – I will address respecting the governmental framework in a future posting. There is progression involved when one considers respecting fellow entities. At the easiest level, one needs to respect others' idiosyncrasies. We are not only all different, but unique in the compilation of our individual characteristics – there is only one of each of us. The level of difference between us can be relatively small or large, but it is always significant. Accommodating these differences depends on how extensively we are called upon to interact within a given association. Citizenship under federal governance, if its formulating compact is designed prudently enough, will not be unreasonably demanding. Obligations and duties will not excessively interfere with a citizen pursuing legitimate private ambitions. Of course, the severity of those obligations and duties varies in accordance with the level of peace and stability a nation is enjoying as opposed to the level of crisis under which it is being challenged.

At all times, the obligations and duties that are before a federated people need to be respected and this includes how we treat, care for, and promote the interests of others. And this leads us to a more demanding level; that is, the level at which we respect diverse interests. We need to understand that in meaningful ways, the interests of our fellow citizens will be diverse and different from our own. While we need not support all interests, we do need to respect those interests and even be willing to defend the ability of those citizens to pursue them. And, of course, at an even more demanding level, federated citizens need to respect even those interests that are in opposition to their own. We are justified in promoting our own interests at the expense of those that oppose ours, but we need, one, to do that under the prevailing legitimate rules of the game, two, do it in peace – only government has the legitimate option of force – and, three, do it in such a way that when the determination of the competition occurs, the parties can walk away with a handshake and in good cheer.

At minimum, then, respect is characterized by civility. Civility is not just a nicety; it is an element of a healthy federated union. We do well to be concerned when the levels of civility are judged to be too low. We should understand that human ambitions and conflicts place perhaps unconquerable obstacles to maintaining ideal levels of civility, but we need to work at it. We surely can promote it in our schools, our churches, in our business interactions, and in our families. Etiquette has a role here. Even when our heart isn't in it, we can act like a nice guy or gal. Beyond that, we need to respect our fellow citizens in such a way that our sense of partnership is strengthened and not diminished.

1Preamble of the United States Constitution.

2Selznick, P. (1992). The moral commonwealth: Social theory and the promise of community. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

DEALING WITH HUMAN REALITIES

In this blog, I have presented the attributes of a federalist polity. I have emphasized the communal aspects of such an arrangement. Those include the commitment to a central fraternal ethos, a genuine concern for fellow citizens, and a shared responsibility toward building and enhancing social capital. This posting is dedicated to what a federalist polity is not. Specifically, it addresses the utopian notion that a federal union is one in which there is no competition or the potential for greed. In this posting, I want to leave you, the reader, with a clear understanding that to advocate for federalism does not mean one believes it is possible to set up a political entity that is devoid of greed and self- serving behavior. On the contrary, a lot of the structural arrangement that are derived from federalist principles is so structured to meet the very human tendencies which act contrary to the aims of federalism, but is very much a part of the human condition. Therefore, federalists recognize the presence of both the very human potential for citizens to have genuine concern for the fate of others, especially for those in whom they are federated, and of selfish motivations.

So where are we as Americans when it comes to these apparently opposite drives or proclivities? Some politicians like to banter about the notion that American politics is above having clashes between our economic classes. Attempts to advance policy geared toward enhancing equality are labeled by these partisans as acts of class warfare. And the question arises: if we are all federated under the Constitution of this republic, aren't we beyond pitting the interests of one income group against that of another? Of one region against that of another? Of one age group, religion, ethnicity against that of another? How does one go about addressing these concerns? Are there points of conflict between these groups that are just part of the human condition that need to be accommodated or regulated?

History is clear on this point: to date, ever since humans have hit upon the ability of civilizing themselves, there have been among them people of varying degrees of economic well-being. That while civilizing has permitted the overall ability to increase wealth, not all have shared in that bounty equally or anything near it. This posting is dedicated to addressing what this fact means to the makeup of a polity – even our own.

To begin with, varying levels of economic well-being reflect one form or another of competition. Considered indispensable in the creation of wealth, this competition is engaged between those who have a lot and those who don't have a lot. But it is also engaged between those who comprise the rich – rich versus the rich – and between those who comprise the not so rich – the not so rich versus the not so rich. The competition takes on the form defined by the ground rules that prevail in a given economy: there are capitalist rules, socialist rules, aristocratic rules, and so forth. There can be many different sources of competition in a society – some economic, some not. Probably most fundamental, though, in defining the nature of a society, is the competition over economic assets within a society. And several basic factors prevail in all economic systems: the need to motivate the producers of economic wealth, the need to compensate the workers, the need to distribute sufficient exchange resources in order to generate sufficient demand, the need to be efficient in the production processes, and so on.

Much of the study of economics analyzes these factors. But there is also a political angle to all of this. Because the competition over this distribution involves high stakes, the rules of the economic game are very important and those rules are established by the political institution of a society. That process of rule making begins with developing and implementing a constitution, the basic law of the land. And while it is not the only concern constitution developers address, it is one of their essential and central concerns. And once a basic constitution for a society is hammered out, in order to maintain its legitimacy, a polity is well served in preserving its workable formula with appropriate policy and in describing and explaining to its populace how and why the instrument addresses the essential factors in the fashion that it does. Of course, if the formula does not work or worked once but now ceases to do so, current politicians need to be about working out a new political arrangement – amending the old constitution or creating a new one.

We, the United States, have the oldest written constitution (not all constitutions are written). By and large, there is real support for it and we more or less abide by it. Actually, we abide by it quite faithfully. And so our civic instruction should be about describing and explaining to its populace, particularly its younger members, how and why we go about addressing the essential factors in the manner our constitution does. There is an array of ways to do that. One such way is to revisit the thinking of our founding fathers and see how they saw these universal factors and any other factors that swayed their thinking about the relation between the classes and other competing groups. Richard Hofstadter does just that in his book, The American Tradition.¹ Let me summarize what this historian sees were the assumptions and claims of the founding fathers:

• There is a human nature that humans do not grow out of or have the ability to give up.
• This human nature is both universal in any given time and across all times – that is, it is the same always and in all places.
• This human nature has, as a central attribute, an insatiable drive that manifests itself within each of us to further self-interests.
• Self-interest can be instrumental in encouraging individuals to join with others who share the same interests or nearly the same interests to form what James Madison called factions – what we might call interest groups.
• Depending on the governing system in place and other environmental factors, self-interest can motivate licit or illicit behavior, productive or destructive actions.
• Attempts to convince individuals or factions to abandon their self-interest are bound to fail because such attempts defy an unchangeable human nature.
• Any interest group or faction that gains unfettered control of the government or the economic system of an area will take advantage and exploit all other interests, individuals, or factions – that is, they will become oppressive.
• The only way to avoid such oppression is to devise and implement a system of governance that pits faction against faction, interest against interest, vice against vice, or more germane to our concern here, class against class. This arrangement checks the ability of any one faction from gaining an oppressive advantage.

These founders were federalist politicians; three of them described and explained these beliefs in a set of arguments that were compiled in a volume entitled The Federalist Papers. The purpose of those arguments was to sell the new federalist constitution of 1787 in order that it be ratified. The term that is used to describe the thrust of these beliefs is a “balanced constitution” that the founders believed summarized what their handiwork attempted to be. It is balanced in its aim not to allow any faction or class to have a level of power in which it can dictate policy which threatens unreasonably and destructively the interests of other groups. In short, the aim is to avoid oppression.

A polity that is so organized should issue policy that substantively protects the opposing aims of opposing factions within its jurisdiction. It should be on guard against those developments that upset the balance. For example, it should be wary of any one group or set of groups becoming so rich that they can parlay that wealth into unchecked political power. On the other hand, it should not issue policy so daunting to human effort that individuals of the various classes become convinced that effort and hard work are not sufficiently rewarded and, as a consequence, allow disincentives of not only hard work, but innovation. It should serve to encourage conservation of our resources of all types – psychological, environmental, social, artistic, and the like. These are but a few of the concerns policy makers have to keep in mind so as to keep in balance the competition that is so important in advancing societal welfare.

Calls for balanced constitutions date back to antiquity, but a federated formula in the US added a level of sophistication that premiered with the American experiment. The deed to check and counterbalance forces could not be successful by merely including all factions within the political arrangement of the nation; it had to be arranged in such a way in which all the above concerns could be satisfied. Hofstadter identifies several elements in our constitution that have been, to date, sufficiently successful in addressing these concerns. They are: one, our constitution has divided power with each class having control over one or another of the structural elements – we have a legislature, for example, with one house representing the wealthy (the Senate) and one the masses (the House of Representatives); two, the constitution provides for an officer who represents all the people, executes policy, and is further empowered with a veto – and even this latter power can be overridden by an overwhelming majority in the legislature; three, the maintenance of local jurisdictions, under the state authority, prevents national interests running roughshod over local interests; four, at the same time, the national jurisdiction is big enough to prohibit any one faction from dominating the nation; and five, there is an independent judiciary, without access to armed resources, that oversees the process by authoritatively judging whether all parties – both public and private – are operating within the rules and, in addition, determines what the rules mean. And let me add to Hofstadter's list of balancing forces: all of these provisions make it very difficult for the government to accomplish anything without significant demand from the citizenry. In terms of protecting against oppressive government, nothing protects more effectively than a government that finds it difficult to devise and implement policy.

Of course, before its implementation, all of this was an ideal – a theory that had been formulated to meet the realistic self-interest of human beings and allow for a people to go about and strive toward more communal ambitions. By accommodating those necessary functions that lead to societal welfare, it is a formula or model that permits and perhaps encourages a mode of governance that allows the citizenry to pursue lives worth living over the long haul.

But heaven was not created in 1787. Perfection was not attained. There is another side. The other side is what happens when, as a result of being so balanced and hampered, the government can't respond sufficiently, in either terms of substance or time, to the needs of a constituency? What happens when, despite all of these structural elements or because of them, some group or faction does gain control and is able to become oppressive? That has, some might say, happened or nearly happened. In the Gilded Age, large corporations had enormous power and were able to render all other factions nearly impotent. Yet a reform era – the Progressive Era – did come about and addressed the most egregious conditions of that time. This effort included several amendments to our constitution. Some suggest that we are again nearing those conditions. If so, how will we respond? If so, is the problem one of deficient policies or is it one of systemic shortcomings? If the latter, have the deficiencies come about because times have changed and our constitution no longer functions sufficiently well? These are the questions of our time. They are serious and highly consequential to the welfare of our people and of the world. Our students need to be aware of what we are facing and it helps immeasurably if they at least know and understand from where we came in terms of structure, aims, and theory.

1Hofstadter, R. (1948). The American political tradition. New York, NY: Vintage Books.

LIBERTY AND EQUALITY LINKED

An often repeated message of these postings has been that our liberty is built upon equality. Given much of our current political punditry, you would think that equality and liberty are antagonistic – to bolster one, it is said, is usually at the expense of the other. For example, if you decide on a policy that promotes equal opportunity through investment in public education, that means higher taxes and higher taxes diminish the liberty of citizens who have to pay those taxes. Of course, libertarian thought, the bedrock view of such movements as the Tea Party movement, has this idealistic vision that we not only should have lower taxes to bolster liberty, but that government and other collectives are counterproductive – that they are oppressive by their very nature and they cause many more problems than they are even able to address, much less solve. Such a view is weary of any approach that diminishes the individual, individual initiative, and self-reliance. Those who share this view look at communal and governmental means to address societal problems as attacking their liberty – their ability to be autonomous. Here is my take: liberty depends on the social, the community, the government. This posting is dedicated to making this point, but to provide context, let me just add at the beginning that, like any good idea, a concern over overbearing or overreaching government, if taken to the extreme, oversimplifies reality.

Let me amplify. Effective community relies on viable government because once communal arrangements are formed, competing interests are inherent. From the most basic to the most complex social settings, there will be those who want X and those who want Y. Conflicts occur in a real world of limited resources so there will be winners and losers in these conflicts. To resolve these unavoidable conflicts, authoritative power will be needed. Short of having that authority vested in the hands of established government, people will take matters into their own hands. While the establishment of government does not guarantee a just resolution of conflict, conflicts that are left to the involved parties will easily deteriorate into “resolution” that favors the party with more coercive power, especially as the stakes of these conflicts reach significance to the parties involved. This, in turn, will result with some combination of force and oppression that will tend to establish itself, permanently transcending the immediate conditions. For social settings beyond those of families or small groups, government is that institution that can provide legitimate authority; that is, authority that handles conflicts objectively. Only then can one be reasonably hopeful that the conflicts one encounters will potentially be settled fairly; only then can one speak of a system of justice being possible. Assuming one sees these social qualities as essential for normal life, to avoid needing government one has the choice of living a hermit's life – an option some take. For most of us, such an option is unthinkable. Therefore, a meaningful conception of liberty has to be within the context of a social, communal existence governed by a government with sufficient power to resolve conflicts.

With that context, what do we have? How do such realities relate to the desire for liberty; how do they relate to our striving to be autonomous? Autonomy is that state in which liberty exists. To be autonomous means to be able to reasonably control our conditions of life, to, as Richard Dagger puts it, be able to “self-govern, self-rule, or self-legislate.”¹ He points out that in order to harbor such capacities, certain social processes and conditions need to be in place and that those processes and conditions depend on a communal arrangement that can be only minimally dependent on one's self-initiative. He emphasizes two such processes and conditions: educating and the availability of opportunities.

I believe that libertarians have a very limited view of autonomy. They see it as this quality of life in which humans are entitled to just do their thing and enjoy unhampered the fruits of their labor. But autonomy presupposes a set of competencies we acquire. After all, we don't just see infants, children, or even teenagers as being autonomous. They lack the skills, physical dexterity, and/or maturity to self- rule. To cast them out into the real world before their time and tell them to take on an autonomous existence would, in most cases, lead to disastrous consequences. We see autonomous people as having at least some minimal level of skills, physical dexterity, and maturity to be considered autonomous. And even then, we can say some are better at being autonomous than others. And how do we get to be skilled and mature enough to take on an autonomous status? We are taught by others. And that teaching presupposes a communal arrangement of some sort. So important is this teaching that all societies develop appropriate institutions to provide that instruction. Prominent in providing this instruction are the institutions of the family and of the schools, but there are others such as the world of employment and its related practices and the media. Through both formal and informal modes of instruction, one learns those capacities that make up what one needs to know in order to be autonomous. We don't learn all of that by our very lonesome.

Now let's think about the implications of such a reality. In order to promote that autonomy, that liberty, for a general population, one needs a fairly strong commitment toward equality. We can't really make the claim that a people are free if the availability of appropriate education is not sufficient among the different strata of a society. Otherwise, liberty will be the province of the few – to those who are advantaged by wealth and/or status. How do I know this? A cursory look at history provides the evidence. From the social conflicts that befell ancient Rome to the long cycle of competing interests of any modern nation, we have the class clashes that characterize the histories of nations and empires. And one of the conflicts that is part and parcel of a class clash is the question of who will receive that education that will provide for a more meaningful and fuller autonomy. As Thomas Jefferson is famously quoted as saying: “If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be.”

Associated with these conflicts has been the developing number of choices societies offer individuals as a result of evolving social structures and advancing technologies. Meaningful autonomy reflects one having choices and the number of choices a people or an individual has determines the quantity and quality of that autonomy. Again, the individual can work toward making more options available, characterized as broadening his or her horizons, but he or she does not determine the number of potential options within a given society. That number is determined by the social conditions of that society – it is a product produced by the collective of a given society. Therefore, the quality and quantity of autonomy is again determined by social conditions in which the more the members of the society can participate and expect viable opportunities, the more there will be diverse options. Look at our own society, as technology – again dependent on education and other infrastructure assets including a viable government – has opened up avenues to success, more chances to attain that success become available. Those changes are equalizers; they pry open demands for more diverse skills and competencies. When differing people take part, they in turn bring into the mix different ways of seeing things and innovations continue to multiply. This reality, along with the need to be educated by others in order to experience meaningful autonomy, is the product not of individual effort, but of a social interdependence that functions more productively and efficiently under a general institutionalization of equality. Our liberty and its meaningful enhancement is born, maintained, and strengthened under a system of equality.

All of this is complicated in practice and, as with extreme individualism, extreme collectivism is simplistic and dangerous. Reality cannot be bottled so easily and attempts to do so have proven tragic, often at the hands of well-intentioned groups. Those who engage in such thinking and action are swayed by an ideology held by a form of traditional thinking – a thinking that is concrete and definite. Under a guise of principled commitment, they deny the existence of those realities that don't disappear so as to accommodate their demands. We are left with and must come to terms with both a need to respect the individual and our social condition. Both are advanced when we understand the relation between equality and liberty. 

 

1Daggar, R. (1997). Civic virtue: Rights, citizenship, and republican liberalism. New York, NY: Oxford. The argument presented in this posting relies on the ideas expressed by Dagger, especially that portion of the argument that relates to the functions of education and societal options.