EARLY AMERICAN VERSION OF FEDERALISM

To understand what this blog is promoting, it is necessary to review relevant historical information.  This blog is arguing that civics teachers and curricular developers should use a mental construct, federation theory, in their choice of content.  This theory has a rich history in America.

To this point, past postings have pointed out that this construct is related to civic humanism and that it was central to the thinking of the founding generation, and finally, how through the years, it has been challenged mostly by a shift toward natural rights thinking.  But what exactly is it and how is it related to civic humanism?  With this posting, these questions will begin to be answered. 

To be clear, this blog is not geared to promote an earlier form of federalism, which will be called traditional federalism, but by reviewing it and its tenets, one can appreciate what basic moral posture federalist thought is.  That construct was essential in forming our republic.  Therefore, a person cannot understand this nation’s constitution without having a working knowledge of this set of beliefs. 

According to Elazar, there are federalist ideas and structures that have had essential influences on not only current political realities, in terms of government, but also in terms of economic institutions.[1]  And traditional federalism is the source of civic ideas and ideals that are functional in promoting social capital. 

But it has its shortcomings which are due mostly to its age.  Traditional federalism, in its totality, is of another time, but it is not irrelevant.  In its time, it was an antithesis to aristocratic and monarchical privilege and some of its attributes might sound like what the advocates of Locke were seeking, but the distinguishing characteristic is its reliance and promotion of communal citizenry.[2]

Essentially, federalism is a construct emphasizing the collective and organic nature of society.  It does this while not sacrificing the integrity of the individual.  It defines society and its government as a social entity that comes about because of a process in which individuals and/or groups consciously form a union based on agreement over fundamental principles and beliefs. 

For those who are familiar with political theory, this view of societal and governmental establishment is one of reflection and choice as opposed to force or accident.  The members of the group formulate this agreement as a mutual promise among the individuals or groups making up the union. 

The agreement has the following qualities:  it is made in perpetuity; it states the purpose(s) of the union; it determines any structural arrangements; it identifies any rights the individuals or groups have under the arrangement; it establishes sanctions that its governing apparatus can administer for infractions against its provisions; and if a covenant, calls on God to witness the promise. 

Our most well-known example of a federated arrangement, not covenant but a compact, is that of the United States.  In that case, the central government was formed by an agreement among both the people of the United States' nation and among the states of the United States.  As such, the US is a complex example.  A much simpler example is a marriage.  In both examples, a member, whether an individual or a group, is equal to all other members, be it a spouse or a nation full of people and/or states. 

By definition, federated arrangements strive to secure equality.  Along with equal treatment, each member has a set of responsibilities and duties so that the union can progress toward accomplishing its purposes.  One way to see this union is to consider it as a partnership among its members whose interests are mutually advanced, at least, in the long run.

Federalism has a long history in the US.  It arrived with the Puritans who landed on the shore along Massachusetts Bay.  They adopted the old Judaic tradition of covenants which had been used to bind people together.  But even before the Puritans, the Mayflower Compact, drawn up by Pilgrims, was a covenant.[3] 

The idea is that, unlike a contract, people from time to time need to rely on others in such a way that that reliance will not waiver through challenging times.  It is not an agreement in which one party provides something in exchange for something else from another party, as in a dollar for a bag of peanuts.  It does, instead, define a relationship in which all members' interests are bound together. 

That would be the case under a government (or a marriage).  A government is formed so that a people can be afforded mutual protection and for other purposes.  A people needs to rely on this institution no matter what might happen.  By using a covenant, the Puritans established a government based on federalist principles – the term federalism has its origins in the meaning of covenant as will be further explained in a subsequent posting (along with what a compact is). 

This historical occurrence began a theoretical tradition that would have enormous influence on the nation's foundational philosophy.[4]  Its most immediate influence was in formulating our foundational documents such as subsequent constitutions and charters which were written during the colonial days and in all the original thirteen colonies and then states.  All the subsequent state constitutions follow the federalist format outlined above.

While the construct served as the dominant view of government and politics, its reign suffered from a continuous diminution.  According to Kramnick, as pointed out in a previous posting, the beginning of its diminution followed the Revolutionary War.[5]  Others place the start of this diminution at other times. Gordon S. Wood writes that federalist ideas held an unchallenged position through the writing of the Constitution by those who led the fight for independence.[6] 

This more traditional, purer rendition of federalism, with an accompanying assumption of homogeneity, had to be surrendered as our politics had to accommodate a pluralistic reality.  The homogeneity of the nation or even of localities within the nation was slipping away within a very short period of time after the establishment of communities became standard practice and the urban areas attracted more people.

As was pointed out in earlier postings as they described the various political subcultures that emerged, America was not of one mind concerning basic biases and beliefs over governance.  Whatever the beginning of its demise, as a study of the American political culture points out, the more moralistic, federalist view of government and politics was seriously challenged by transcendental thought.  This will only be the first of serious challenges to the more moralistic view. 

Each of these challenges, in turn, undermined the more communal beliefs of federalism and bolstered the individualism of the natural rights construct.  This diminution was not a simple, one-way trend.  The nation’s history indicates that some of the challenges were very complex in their effects (for example, the New Deal while providing extensive bureaucratic programs, did reignite a “we’re in this together” spirit to combat the drastic effects of the Great Depression).

But before the natural rights construct took hold as the dominant construct, a federalist view held sway, at least more so than any other view.  It hung on as a pervading atmosphere which was mostly instrumental in relaying a sense of duty and, when appropriate, shame when its moral precepts were offended.  And this dominance can be detected in place till mid twentieth century.  During its years of dominance, its influence held beyond the concerns of government and included the family, the church, and education.[7]

Stephen L. Schechter[8] provides a good sense of how intimately federalist ideas affected the development of our political tradition starting in the 1600s.  These recurring processes started with small settlements, evolved into colonies, and then into a large nation.

America engaged in a development characterized with “reflection and choice” as opposed to “accidental” development – a natural growth usually characterized by monarchial rule.  The US can point to a definite period, of short duration, in which its basic constitutional ideas were proactively thought of and implemented.

The created political entities were the product of well thought-out considerations, including these five essential attributes: 

·        the almost missionary application of covenants,

·        the reliance on rational-choice (an Enlightenment ideal),

·        the establishment of republican government characterized by popular consent and limited government,

·        the reliance on the rule of law principle which picks up on the Anglo-American common law tradition,

·        and the incorporation of “the principle of organizing polities by distributing and sharing power between general (central government) and constituent governments (the state governments).”[9]

Adding to one’s understanding is the writing of Jack N. Rakove:

The American decision for independence added a further dimension to the concept of informed citizen … Americans began writing new constitutions of government to replace the old colonial regime, and these constitutions took an avowedly republican cast [known for] the virtue of their citizens:  their public-spiritedness, their willingness to subordinate private interest to public good, their capacity to monitor their rulers for signs of tyrannical ambition, their knowledge of the essential rights government existed to protect.  A republican government required a republican society.[10] (emphasis added)

These are federalist values in operation.

---

[1] Daniel J. Elazar, “How Federal Is the Constitution?  Thoroughly,” Readings for classes taught by Professor Elazar (Steamboat Springs, CO:  National Endowment for the Humanities Institute, 1994), 1-30.  A booklet of readings prepared for an institute for teachers.  In a booklet of readings.

[2] Communal citizenry will be identified by the term civic humanism, mentioned earlier, which will be more formally defined in subsequent posting.

[3] The Mayflower Compact was not written and agreed to by Puritans, but by Pilgrims who landed on the Massachusetts Bay at Plymouth Rock.

[4] Donald S. Lutz, “The Mayflower Compact, 1620,” in Roots of the Republic:  American Founding Documents Interpreted, ed. Stephen L. Schechter (Madison, WI:  Madison House, 1990), 17-23.

[5] Isaac Kramnick, “John Locke and Liberal Constitutionalism I,” in Major Problems in American Constitutional History, Volume I:  The Colonial Era Through Reconstruction, ed. Kermit L. Hall (Lexington, MA:  D. C. Heath and Company, 1992), 97-114. 

[6] Gordon S. Wood, The Creation of the American Republic 1776-1787, (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1998).  Wood uses other terminology.

[7] Daniel J. Elazar, “How Federal Is the Constitution?  Thoroughly” AND Michael J. Sandel, Democracy's Discontent: America in Search of a Public Philosophy, (Cambridge, MA:  The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1996).

[8] Stephen L. Schechter, introduction to Roots of the Republic:  American Founding Documents Interpreted, Stephen L. Schechter (Madison, WI:  Madison House, 1990), 1-16.

[9] Stephen L. Schechter, introduction to Roots of the Republic:  American Founding Documents Interpreted., 4.

[10] Jack N. Rokove, “Once More into the Breach:  Reflections on Jefferson, Madison, and the Religion Problem,” in Making Good Citizens: Education and Civil Society, ed. Diane Ravitch and Joseph P. Viteritti (New Haven, CT:  Yale University Press, 2001), 233-262, 240.  

THREE POLITICAL SUBCULTURES

This next posting compares lists of beliefs that make up the political subcultures that began to develop in America as early as its colonial days.  Specifically, it will compare the moralistic beliefs that were derived from the Calvinist tradition and the individualistic beliefs that are derived from the transcendental tradition.  These two traditions were reviewed in the last posting. 

There is another tradition, but that is limited to the southeast states of the old Confederacy.  What has resulted, though, is an intriguing story of tension among these beliefs making it more difficult to form a national political culture.  Despite this tension, a national political culture has emerged.  In part, that has been made possible by one of these traditions becoming a dominant set of values and norms. 

For most of the nation’s history, the moralistic subculture was dominant.  This was true until the years following World War II.  Since then, the individualistic subculture has become dominant.  Dominance does not equate with the elimination of other cultural biases.  One can still find strong expression of each of the three prominent belief systems.  A review of these beliefs is useful as the beliefs help explain why the nation’s politics take the form that they do.

The moralistic subculture, formed in the New England colonies, spread westward across the northern most tier of states stretching to the Pacific Ocean.  If one would want to see a current display of this subculture, pay attention to the weeks leading up to the Iowa caucuses during the next presidential cycle.  By doing so, one can detect the characteristics Daniel Elazar identifies in this subculture:

1.   Belief that politics as a profession is a calling of great moral standing.  One who chooses this line of work can contribute toward the betterment of the commonwealth.

2.   Belief that strong institutions are the foundation of a good society.  Through these institutions, society focuses on securing a healthy commonwealth.  Individuals and their welfare, ambitions, and contributions are measured and given meaning by what they accomplish within these institutions.

3.   The commonwealth recognizes good citizenship through public duty.  It defines this duty in terms of efforts within public politics and should exhibit honesty, selflessness, and a sense of commitment for the common good (akin to what this blog has cited as social capital – a la Robert Putnam).  This subculture holds as anathema the idea that a public career is a means for self-advancement.

4.   The subculture places an emphasis on local political engagement.  It does so because it is through local, community based action that people more readily engage in face-to-face politicking.  By this type of action, engaged citizens become more disposed toward improving conditions and their activity takes on a moral character.[1]

Naturally, this type of interaction comes closest to what Tocqueville [2] in a previous posting depicts as typical politics in the early years of the nation’s history.

Of the three subcultures, the moralistic provides the most supportive line of thinking and feelings aligned with the federation theory construct.  It did and still does have influence among certain sub-groupings of many Americans.  The last President who frequently used the language of the moralistic tradition was the New Englander, John F. Kennedy – e. g., “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”

The most distinctive element of the moralistic subculture, as compared with the individualistic subculture, is that one places emphasis on the community, the collective, as opposed to the individual.  As this writer states this, it occurs to him that one can readily jump to the conclusion that the moralistic subculture is a collectivist philosophy, perhaps something like socialism. 

It is not.  The federalist construct identifies the significance of the collective in the form of a community, and argues that good and functional social policy must respect its existence and address its demands.  It is what some constitutional historians call civic humanism.

The next account of these subcultures is of the one that has become dominant today.  Mostly stretching westward from first the mid-Atlantic colonies, the individualistic subculture prevailed and still does so today.  Why?  Because it best reflects our capitalist biases as it mirrors and supports the marketplace and that subset of colonies led the way to developing the nation’s first organized market facilities of any size and wealth.

Elazar identifies the following characteristics for the individualistic political subculture:

1.   Politics, its activities and beliefs, is defined as part and parcel of the ubiquitous marketplace. Those engaged in politics are basically involved in trading favors to accomplish social goals. They are active in this exchange and are motivated by a desire to advance their political careers and expect to be adequately compensated for their participation.

2.   Citizens are mostly involved in pursuing their individual interests.  For the most part, they are concerned with private interests, not communal or public ones. Community action should be limited to minimal concerns and should, therefore, be unusual and practiced only in extreme situations.

3.   Political action should be aimed at specific problems. Political programs and ideology should be strongly avoided.

4.   Actual politics is generally a dirty business and should not be the business of most citizens. The necessary politicking should be left to those professionals who have chosen this loathsome profession. Some corruption is probably unavoidable and acceptable if it is kept to reasonable levels. Whether the public exerts the effort to clean out “city hall” depends on calculations measuring the costs and benefits of doing so.  In this atmosphere, only overwhelming public clamor will result in new government initiatives.

5.   Obviously, political activity by citizens is not encouraged. The subculture does not seek out core causes of social, economic, or political problems, and only reluctantly addresses the symptoms of such problems.[3] James McGregor Burns has described this type of political leadership as “you scratch my back, I'll scratch your back” or transactional leadership.[4]

The mid-Atlantic political culture has been exemplified, through the history of those states that stretch from the Atlantic seaboard to the Pacific coast until today; that is, these populations, in the main, live out these cultural traits.  There are areas of the country that fall outside this broad region that also exhibit these cultural traits; for example, areas of south Florida.  This is due to significant migrations within the country.

The third political subculture identified by Elazar is the traditional subculture of the southern colonies and then the southeastern states.  It is characterized by a general cultural orientation that supports an elite class (southern plantation owners and their families).  This power position should be secured by establishing a caste system in which political, economic, and social status is mostly determined by conditions of birth.  It was also heavily embroiled in racist politics. 

Of course, this subculture and its beliefs was significantly responsible for the Civil War.  The subculture, a pre-industrial view, supports and maintains a strict social and political hierarchy.  Under their paternalistic control, elites can accomplish good things, but goodness is basically defined by elitist interests.

Political parties, for example, are of little value and basically are used to recruit those who perform the legalistic requirements of governance necessary to maintain essential governmental services – such as policing services.  Politics is more a function of personal relationships.[5]

Due to mostly historical events, prominently among them the South losing the Civil War, this subculture is judged to be the least viable of the three.  Limited to the southeastern states (the old Confederacy), the subculture has been, to a great degree, regarded with less legitimacy in the rest of the country. 

Elazar, if alive today, would be perhaps a bit surprised, however, by how some southern thinking seems to be making a comeback.  For example, because of Texas prominence in the choice of textbooks used in our classrooms, – due to the size of its population and therefore its position in the textbook market – recent demands by Texas education officials regarding these books’ content might have significant influence on what texts around the country may contain.[6]

For the purposes of this blog, though, the main issues of excessive individualism are an expression of the tension between the moralistic subculture and the individualist subculture.  It is the result of the bifurcation between these two belief systems that a newer set of beliefs might evolve; a synthesis might emerge.

---

[1] Daniel J. Elazar, American Federalism: A View from the States, (New York, NY: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1966).

[2] Alexi de Tocqueville, “Political Structure of Democracy,” in Alexis de Tocqueville:  On Democracy, Revolution, and Society, ed. John Stone and Stephen Mennell (Chicago, IL:  Chicago University Press, 1980/1835), 78-101.

[3] Daniel J. Elazar, American Federalism: A View from the States.

[4] James McGregor Burns, Leadership, (New York, NY: Harper and Row, 1978).

[5] Daniel J. Elazar, American Federalism: A View from the States.

[6]Tim Walker, “Don’t Know Much about History:  Controversial Changes May Be in Store for Your Textbooks, Courtesy of the Texas State School Board,” National Education Association, accessed September 14, 2016. 

BRIMSTONE VS. GENTILITY

This blog has made the argument that a federalist view, more than any other, was the dominant view of governance and politics.  What does that mean?  With this posting, the blog will sort out this claim.  What it does not mean, as the use of the term, dominant, indicates, is that it was not the only view among early Americans.

Hopefully, after reading this and subsequent postings, the reader can attain a rounded understanding of the early thinking of colonists and of the citizenry of the new American republic.  This writer relies on a number of scholars to stitch together a description of these foundational thoughts, developments, and policy decisions; among them is philosopher George Santayana, political scientist Daniel J. Elazar, and political theorist/philosopher Michael J. Sandel.

In 1911, George Santayana, famous for the quote, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” published an address, “The Genteel Tradition in American Philosophy.”[1] To begin, Santayana points out that since the earliest days of the nation, there has been a two-sided Christian view which has molded a lot of our social and political thought:  a fire-and-brimstone Calvinist view and a gentler message known as social transcendentalism.

The Calvinist view bolstered a concern for the ravages of sin and expressed itself as an “agonized conscience.” The gentler side promoted an imported, social philosophy.  Social transcendentalism, which developed more formally in Europe during the eighteenth century, augmented a more self-enhancing message.  A review of both allows one an insight into an early American tension that played out within most Americans and among them in local community settings.

Calvinism pushed Americans to be disciplined and promoted a moral standing to hard work which resulted in a discipline necessary to tame a frontier environment. The harsh conditions and its dangers were met by a people armed with a view of life and morality suited to meet the challenges. So successful was this mental and emotional framework that it became victimized by the success it allowed these settlers to achieve.

And while many of the Calvinist mentality has mellowed or diminished, Americans are still seen as a hard-working people.  As the demands of the frontier environment subsided, Americans, with a prosperous economy and material security, began to have available the finer things of life.

They found it difficult to maintain the stricter way of living, at least to the levels they endured earlier. Oh, there were attempts to refuel it with movements such as the Great Awakening in the 1730s – Calvinism did not disappear – but it lost its more stringent character by the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century.[2]

An influential aspect of the Calvinist past was the development of congregations. From America’s earliest settlements, this form of social arrangement, the congregational model, characterized how Americans organized themselves.  And with this bias, the nation’s view of federalism was initially formed.

Key to this was organizing agreements among settlers through the utilization of covenants, sets of communal commitments by the settlers which established the basic social and political arrangements of the group. These instruments were formalized as written agreement(s) in the form of a charter or a constitution. To solidify this important promise to each other, the settlers called on God to witness the agreement.[3]  This aspect is developed further in future postings.

Due to diminishing harshness, transcendentalism became prominent. Leading this movement in the nineteenth century, Ralph Waldo Emerson helped define transcendentalism for Americans by activating a Kantian tradition called “systemic subjectivism.”  This was a more individualist turn, especially as compared with Calvinist thought.

Emerson strongly promoted a self-initiative bias which was highly valued in a mostly frontier nation. The quality was easily integrated into a romanticized version of Yankee lore and was instrumental in adopting Lockean ideas (which has been explained in previous postings).  But it should be remembered that Emerson’s influence does not make itself known until the mid-1800s and significantly after the Calvinist influence had been well-established.

Two characteristics were emphasized in this transcendental vision: emphasis on present needs and the importance of the will over the intellect – action over thinking.  And so, the major challenging view to a communal bias was introduced in a social and somewhat economic sense.

As opposed to the earlier Calvinist focus on evil, transcendental thought seemed to have a blind eye for it and rhapsodized an up-beat disposition and optimism. To Emerson, these dispositions translated themselves into confidence or trust in oneself, in one's ability.

Along with confidence came a positive self-definition and a faith in intuition: “the perspective of knowledge as they radiate from the self.”[4]  But this view of Emerson is getting a bit ahead of the story, but serves as backdrop for what will transpire around the years of the early republic.  After the foundational generation gave the nation its constitution (along with the Declaration of Independence), there began an increasing, over time, acceptance of individualism.

Summarily, an imbalance seemed to emerge and the challenging perspective became noteworthy; this less humble view stood in counter distinction to Calvinism.  Among the turmoil associated with an emerging nation, two competing social perspectives took root:  one, a lure for the marketplace, and two, a commonweal view, a much more communal orientation.  Each of these views would compete among the people and even within a person’s perceptions.

The marketplace view defines citizens according to their role in the bargaining processes of the market. In this view, each person seeks his or her own self-interest. On the other hand, in the commonweal view, citizens are having, among themselves, undivided interests. This tension took on different styles among the various regions of the nation and, according to Elazar, led to the evolution of three distinct political subcultures in America.[5]

Here, it is necessary to explain that this overall cultural diversity is presented in relative terms.  Each of the regions did and does exhibit the various listed cultural traits and beliefs to stronger or lesser degrees than what had been found in the other regions.  For example, the anti-communal traits exhibited in the mid-Atlantic colonies and then states are by degree stronger in that region.  But one can still detect an overall political culture characterizing the whole American nation.

In sharing a short description of each, to be provided in the next posting, of the three sub-cultures, the effort will begin with a review of the first of these which was introduced with the Pilgrims and Puritans in the New England colonies.  They were influential beyond their numbers in that their biased view of government and politics became the dominant view.  That view remained dominant till World War II.

In the next posting, this blog will compare the lists of beliefs that the subsequent subcultures developed in the different regions of the nation.  Specifically, it will compare the moralistic beliefs that are derived from the Calvinist tradition and the individualistic beliefs that are derived from the transcendental tradition.  There is another tradition, but that is limited to the southeast states of the old Confederacy.  What has resulted is an intriguing story – stay tuned.

---

[1] George Santayana, “The Genteel Tradition in American Philosophy,” in The Annals of America, vol. 13, (Chicago, IL: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1968/1911) eds. Charles Van Doren and Mortimer J. Adler, 277-288.

[2] Daniel N. Robinson, American Ideals:  Founding a “Republic of Virtue,” [a transcript book], (Chantilly, VA:  The Teaching Company/The Great Courses, 2004).

[3] Daniel J. Elazar, “Federal Models of (Civil) Authority,” Journal of Church and State, 33, (Spring, 1991):  231-254.

[4] George Santayana, “The Genteel Tradition in American Philosophy,” 281.

[5] Daniel J. Elazar, American Federalism: A View from the States, (New York, NY: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1966).

AN EARLY HERO: TOCQUEVILLE

“I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.” – Casablanca (film, 1942)

With this posting, the favored construct this blog is dedicated to promoting is introduced.  Naturally, the blog has described and explained this construct in various ways.  But the writer feels it is time to again review its basic elements.  He has named this construct federation theory or federation pedagogy, and makes the claim that an earlier version of this construct served as the dominant political perspective of Americans over most of this nation’s history. 

This review will begin with an account of that earlier version, traditional federalism, and describes how it views good citizenship.  This posting will describe the political culture that was inspired by and, in turn, supported this political construct.  This will lead, in subsequent postings, into describing its role in the development of the nation’s constitutional mindset. 

It lost its dominance in the years following World War II.  This review will provide, in no order, answers to the three organizing questions that are applied to the two constructs already described:  what is the construct’s view of morality; what is the construct’s view of government and politics; and what is the construct’s view of its role in promoting the common good?

Traditional federalism is of course a version of federalism.  But federalism here is not portrayed as it is usually described:  a structural arrangement among governments that ban together and form a central government.  Instead, it is primarily described and explained as one of various ways of attaining civic humanism (a term to be defined in subsequent postings, but having to do with a collaborative citizenry).   In short, it is a view of governance that furthers a polity being federated among its members.

It is through a striving for a civic humanism that the construct aims at establishing, supporting, and maintaining social capital.  A sense of what civic humanism is can be derived from an account of early American life.  One, in reviewing the natural rights construct, senses a bias against history; in fact, many consider positivist study, its main methodology, to be ahistorical. 

Not so with federation theory; it embraces history.  Historically, then, trying to gauge what traditional federalism holds as moral can be sensed by seeing how Americans interacted in the 1830s.  Here, an extended citation is offered from a book written by the French political writer, Alexis de Tocqueville. 

The citation reads as follows:

It is not impossible to form an imaginary picture of the surpassing liberty which the Americans enjoy; some idea may likewise be formed of the extreme equality which subsists amongst them.  But the political activity which pervades the United States must be seen in order to be understood.  No sooner do you set foot upon the American soil than you are stunned by a kind of tumult; a confused clamour is heard on every side; and a thousand simultaneous voices demand the immediate satisfaction of their social wants.  Everything is in motion around you; here, the people of one quarter of a town are met to decide upon the building of a church; there, the election of a representative is going on; a little further, the delegates of a district are traveling in a hurry to the town in order to consult upon some local improvements; or in another place the labourers of a village quit their ploughs to deliberate upon the project of a road or a public school.  Meetings are called for the sole purpose of declaring their disapprobation of the line of conduct pursued by the Government, whilst in other assemblies the citizens salute the authorities of the day as the fathers of their country.  Societies are formed which regard drunkenness as the principal cause of the evils under which the State labours, and which solemnly bind themselves to give a constant example of temperance.

The great political agitation of the American legislative bodies, which is the only kind of excitement that attracts the attention of foreign countries, is a mere episode or a sort of continuation of that universal movement which originates in the lowest classes of the people and extends successively to all ranks of society.  It is impossible to spend more efforts in the pursuit of enjoyment.

The cares of political life engross a most prominent place in the occupation of a citizen in the United States, and almost the only pleasure of which an American has any idea is to take part in the Government, and to discuss the part he has taken.  This feeling pervades the most trifling habits of life; even the women frequently attend public meetings, and listen to political harangues as a recreation after their household labours.  Debating clubs are to a certain extent a substitute for theatrical entertainments.  An American cannot converse, but he can discuss; and when he attempts to talk he falls into a dissertation.  He speaks to you as if he was addressing a meeting; and if he should chance to warm in the course of the discussion, he will infallibly say “Gentlemen,” to the person with whom he is conversing.[1]

To this writer, this cited passage gives the best description he has ever read of a people politically engaged in the affairs of their communities.  It portrays a sense of citizenship civics teachers should value and strive to instill in their students. 

How accurate is this account?  Tocqueville was a respected professional political writer of his time.  He wrote several famous works.  His account does not exactly mirror the descriptions of Mark Twain, for example, in Huckleberry Finn,[2] but whether Tocqueville is accurate or not, the description above can serve as an ideal – maybe one this nation will never achieve, but one for which it can strive.

The political activity described in the above citation is what this writer has heard the educator, John Patrick, call “hard democracy.”  It surely would not generally describe American discourse today, whether one is referring to how Americans discuss local or national issues.  As such, the description can serve as an ideal.

Why hold this portrait of Americana as an ideal?  If one harkens to the notion of social capital – a concept offered by Robert Putnam[3] – the interactions described in the 1830s have some very worthwhile characteristics.

These include concern for the common good, willingness to participate in and even enjoy the political processes involved in collective endeavors, and be prideful, even perhaps a bit competitive, as each citizen fulfills his/her role in the democratic process.  In addition, though tacit, one can sense a tolerance for those who hold opposing views. 

If a person finds the above description appealing, then he/she will judge federation theory/pedagogy as an amenable construct to guide civics education.  The question then becomes:  how does the nation get there?  How can it adopt such a perspective?  A first step in answering that question is to gain a historical understanding of how this visionary image was functional in the development of this nation’s constitutional principles.

---

[1] Alexi de Tocqueville, “Political Structure of Democracy,” in Alexis de Tocqueville:  On Democracy, Revolution, and Society, ed. John Stone and Stephen Mennell (Chicago, IL:  Chicago University Press, 1980/1835), 78-101, 78-79.

[2] Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, (Westminster/London, GB:  Penguin Classics, 2003/1885).

[3] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community, New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, 2000.k

A FINAL TAKE ON A DIALECTIC DEBATE

Over the last few months, this blog has reviewed and compared the content of two mental constructs:  the natural rights construct and the critical theory construct.  These views and their points of disagreement constitute what professional academics in the field of curriculum studies debate. 

Actually, academics generally ascribe to the critical theory side of the debate and, on the other side, there are few academics, the educational establishment of administrators and officials as well as administrators within school districts. 

Perhaps, in this blog, the language used to describe critical theory was a bit more positive than the language used to describe natural rights.  The reader should remember that this construct has been readily dismissed by the great majority of Americans, irrespective of Bernie Sanders’ popularity during the 2016 election cycle.  It was determined, therefore, that a positive tone be taken in describing and explaining its tenets.  The reader, though, should not be misled; this writer is quite critical of critical theory.

A short anecdote gets at the very heart of what he sees as lacking with Marxian based models.  This anecdote refers to a situation that existed within the writer’s family.  Two of his family members lived in a condominium in Miami.  He would visit often and was well acquainted with the inner workings of the household. 

One of his relatives, a leftist thinking person, spouted often about the imminent demise of capitalism.  He is a patriotic person and does not promote violent overthrow of the system or anything close to that.  But he did see current political and economic conditions as fundamentally bankrupt and headed for inevitable doom.  He is a bright enough fellow, college educated, and has had his share of tough times.

The apartment was not extravagant although the monthly maintenance fees were a bit high due to a swimming pool located within the complex.  These fees included the shared water costs of the entire complex.  There were no individual meters to measure water consumption, so everyone shared equally in paying the water bill for the building.

The apartment these relatives lived in had two bathrooms, one being part of the master suite.  A significant leak developed in the bathtub of the master bathroom, resulting in quite a few gallons of water being wasted per day.  When asked whether anything had been done about the leak, the reply was always no.  This was the case for months.  It wasn't until the leak escalated and flooded the apartment that the issue was fixed.  And this writer said to his leftist relative, “That's why socialism won't work.”

It doesn't work because it lacks assigning personal responsibility for the upkeep, maintenance, and/or economic development of assets.  When something becomes everyone's responsibility, it becomes no one's responsibility.  Personal accountability is essential in any realistic model of the human condition.  Paying the costs, be they labor, money, or the care needed to account for the wear and tear of something held dear, is hard to bear.

With this backdrop, what are the problems with critical theory?  What is not the problem is the sincerity of those advocating this view, but it otherwise has serious problems.  To begin with, generations of Americans have overwhelmingly rejected socialist thinking with some exceptions (e. g., Social Security).  There is evidence that there is something to respecting the wisdom of so many.[1] 

Yes, a lot of that indifference, if not out and out disregard, has been fueled by a well-orchestrated propaganda effort by the business community aimed at anything approaching socialist policies.  While our nation has implemented socialist type programs, the nation can be viewed as right of center along the political spectrum and, as such, tends to reject socialist approaches to problems. 

Throughout most of its history, the existence of a viable middle class has given most Americans a vested interest in the existing system.  Yet, the almost total rejection of this construct as it applies to civics and curricular issues, in general, should say something about how, to most Americans, the theory lacks any sense.  As one of its chief advocates writes about the effect of critical pedagogy, “it has never been a major theme in social education.”[2]

While all this is seen to be true, one can still garner from critical theorists and pedagogues’ insights into the oppressive conditions from which the disadvantaged suffer.  This is no small contribution.  But in terms of providing a guiding view for how schools should practically go about educating our youth, this construct is a non-starter.

Among its problems is a lack of a singular message.  Critical pedagogy, for example, has a loose and, to some degree, contradictory foundation.  While the approach is influenced by the Marxian discourse of class struggle, its post structural/postmodern roots theoretically attack such mega-theories as Marxism. 

Cleo H. Cherryholmes writes:

Critical pedagogy is a vague and ambiguous term. … [C]ritical pedagogy has referred to curriculum theory's “reconceptualist” movement …  This movement has never been unified and continues to defy easy description.[3]

With such a diverse foundation, advocates have found it impossible to zero in on concrete curricular and instructional strategies.  They are, for the most part, constrained to making opaque theoretical arguments or reporting how prevailing conditions warrant our ire at the oppressive conditions that exist.

In terms of making their case about the oppressive conditions they perceive, they pursue several approaches.  For example, they might limit themselves to reciting statistics and descriptive accounts which document the mal-distribution of economic values in our society.  These accounts are analyzed according to race, gender, ethnicity, age and other categories, proving that certain groups are marginalized; these groups are castigated, in prevailing discourses, as “others.”[4]

This critique could also add other issues.  For example, this approach to civics tends to be a single-issue approach and disregards other areas of concern such as the degradation of the environment.  Another shortcoming is this approach’s disregard for the attempts that the American nation has made to meet the needs of both the laboring class and the disadvantaged.  One can argue that America is still a place where someone with modest beginnings can make something of him/herself. 

This latter point reflects problems with how exploitation is defined by critical theorists.  Perhaps a better definition, other than what is offered by Galtung (in the previous posting), is as follows:  an oppressive society is one in which acts denying reasonable liberty or equality occur and the victimized party(ies) have no political, legal, economic or other means, short of violence, to effectively fight against the offensive condition(s).  While this has been the case against certain groups in the past, it is not the US today.

A lot more can be said about both critical theory and natural rights construct.  Hopefully, the reader can gather the essence of what divides these educators.  But beyond that, the above reviews attempt to highlight what each of these constructs lacks in fulfilling its function to guide civics educators on what should be included in terms of governmental and political content.  The lack is so pronounced that another way or view should be considered.  This blog is dedicated to another view.

---

                        [1] James Surowiecki,   The Wisdom of Crowds:  Why the Many are Smarter than the Few and How Collective Wisdom Shapes Business, Economics. Societies, and Nations (New York, NY:  Doubleday, 2004).

[2] Cleo H. Cherryholmes, “Critical Pedagogy and Social Education,” Handbook on Teaching Social Issues:  NCSS Bulletin 93, eds. Ronald W. Evans and David Warren Saxe (Washington, DC:  National Council of the Social Studies, 1996), 75-80, 75.

[3] Ibid., 75.

[4] Donna M. Gollnick and Phillip C. Chinn, Multicultural Education in a Pluralistic Society (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Merrill, 1998) AND Michael Apple, Cultural Politics and Education (New York, NY: Teachers College Press, 1996).