Showing posts with label Western civilization. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Western civilization. Show all posts

Monday, October 2, 2017

Tonsor: Western Civ: Socrates

Following is my revised lecture on Socrates. It was originally composed when I was a graduate student under the tutelage of Stephen Tonsor at the University of Michigan.  

The core idea: Socrates offers a compelling answer to the question of how to be happy and live a good life. 


I. Introduction to Socrates

One of the reasons that I am a humanist and not a social scientist is that I believe individual human beings can be leaders who make a difference and even change the course of history. One intellectual leader who changed the course of human thought was Socrates. Although he lived 2,400 years ago, he remains a sure guide for the perplexed to this day. He took up the question thoughtful people in the ancient world asked and keep asking to this day: How can I be happy and live a good life?

The answer Socrates offered might surprise many people nowadays because it has nothing to do with having a great career, accumulating awards, or owning things. For Socrates, the key to being happy and to living a good life was to love wisdom above all else. Loving wisdom leads us to act with relentless virtue and to seek the unvarnished truth. 

We know, for example, that we cannot be happy if we act badly and are plagued by a guilty conscience. Instinctively we sense a connection between virtue and happiness.

Socrates also knew that there were social consequences to the quest for wisdom. Because moral and intellectual discipline is so hard, because the "long, arduous apprenticeship of self-mastery" never ends,[1] citizens might begin to question their faith in democracy, for citizens must learn to govern themselves before they can presume to govern others. 


II. A Giant of the Earth

In a recent Time magazine survey of the most consequential human beings who have ever lived, Socrates ranks 68th. That may not sound spectacularly high until you realize that he is 68th out of 107 billion people who have ever lived.[2] When expressed mathematically -- 68/107,000,000,000 -- Socrates peers down on us like a giant of the earth (because of course he is).

It's perhaps surprising that he ranks so high. In the first place, Socrates did not leave behind any of his own writings. We only know this enigmatic man through the observations of others -- Plato, Xenophon, Aristophanes, Aristotle -- and these sources are hardly in agreement about the man. 

Moreover, Socrates did not do the things that get most people into the history textbooks. He never founded a religion, never founded a nation, never led an army, never held high office, never discovered a new world, never wrote an epic poem, and in fact did not leave us one word in his own hand. He had no career, no money, no school, and likely held public office only once, and then only briefly. He was a man of simple habits who spent most of his waking hours roaming the streets of Athens in search of people who might teach him something important.

What Socrates did have was a keen intellect that he generously shared with students. Through his students, especially through Plato, this lover of wisdom became one of the most consequential human beings who ever lived.


III. Three Contexts

Historians and biographers like to write of the "life and times" of a person. Framing a biographical narrative in its broader context helps readers see things that might otherwise be missed. There are at least three important contexts that help us understand what it was like to be Socrates.

First is the fifth century BC, a time of remarkable synchronicity throughout Eurasia. Along with Socrates in Athens, there also lived at this time the Buddha in India, Confucius in China, Zoroaster in Persia, and some of the great Jewish prophets in the Middle East including Ezra, Nehemiah, Malachi, and Esther. Countless millions of people down to the present day have been inspired by these religious and philosophical leaders, a few of whom never wrote a word. So important was this era to the moral and spiritual development of humankind that the philosopher Karl Jaspers put the fifth century BC at the center of the "axial age," which saw human history turn. 

Second is the Greek intellectual revolution that occurred not just in Athens but in Ionia in Asia Minor. There arose a number of thinkers who today would be called scientists, as they did not resort to the gods to explain what happened in nature but instead used reason to search out what caused earthquakes, storms, seasons, and the proliferation of life. Socrates was not a systematic philosopher. He did not use reason as the pre-Socratic philosophers did, to investigate nature and propose a comprehensive view of the cosmos. Rather, he used reason to explore man's search for the good life, the way ethicists might today.

Third is the Golden Age of Athens. This flowering of culture occurred after Athens won a war against the superpower of the day, Persia -- not once but twice (490 and 480 BC). Socrates lived through most of the Golden Age. But the splendor of democratic Athens faded rather suddenly when she and her allies began fighting their fellow Greeks, the Spartans and her allies, in the devastating Peloponnesian War (431-404 BC), which exhausted every polis that got caught up in the conflict. The last five years of Socrates's life coincided with a terrible time in Athens. The war had ended, but there were recriminations over who made Athens lose both the war and the peace. An annoying gadfly who was critical of the Establishment made himself an easy target to swat.


IV. Life of Socrates

Historiographically we cannot avoid the "Socrates problem." Because this gadfly did not himself leave behind any writings, our portraits of him have been colored by others. It turns out the sources lead to two divergent views of the man. 

On the negative side, the comic playwright Aristophanes poked fun of Socrates as a silly but dangerous fellow who was always putting the wrong ideas in people's heads; he was just another sophist. For a fee he would teach students how to be clever and confound his listeners, making the worse argument look better and the better argument look worse. Other detractors were angry that Socrates tore down the authority of the greatest democrats of Athens during the postwar years when the polis desperately needed stability. Because Socrates challenged the status quo, he was thought to be impious, a revolutionary who created new gods. Crowning all these reasons was the charge that Socrates corrupted the youth and thus the future of the weakened city-state. The dastardly Alcibiades had been his student, after all.

On the positive side, Socrates was veritably worshiped by his pupils Plato and Xenophon, who wrote of his sterling character, unimpeachable integrity, and relentless pursuit of virtue. They also admired the fact that their teacher was a skeptic of all received opinion when it came to the Big Ideas -- justice, virtue, piety, love, knowledge, and other notions. Because Socrates was a brilliant conversationalist, he attracted many youth who felt he put the romance in the search for wisdom: The "long, arduous apprenticeship of self-mastery,"[3] according to Socrates, was the most noble thing we human beings undertake.

Historians will never be able to reconcile these two different views of Socrates. But based on Plato's early dialogues and other source material, the following is what we can say with some degree of certainty:

He was born in Athens in 470 BC. His name means "master of life." His father Sophronicus was a stone mason. His mother Phaenarete was a midwife. Later in life, Socrates would compare himself to a midwife: as a midwife mastered the skill or art of delivering babies, so the lover of wisdom mastered the art of giving birth to the truth.

For the first forty years of Socrates's life, it was glorious to be an Athenian. The recent defeat of the Persians from the east gave the upstart democrats in the West the confidence and energy to unleash their talents. The result was the Golden Age. All through Socrates's childhood and early adulthood, Athens was experiencing a great cultural flowering on the way to becoming the freest, most advanced civilization in the world. 

Despite all the beautiful statues sculpted during the Golden Age, Socrates did not fit the physical ideal of the Greek man. The sometime stonemason was short, stocky, and ugly. 

Instead of spending his life plying his trade, Socrates was intent on pursuing wisdom. What was knowledge? Opinion? Virtue? Vice? There was no consensus in ancient Greece. Perhaps most striking of all were the irreconcilable teachings of Parmenides and Heraclitus. The former saw reality in terms of being; the latter, in terms of becoming. Faced with these contradictory doctrines, Socrates managed to hold both in dynamic tension. This fact is critical to understanding how his mind worked. Socrates was no ideologue. His accommodation of irreconcilable intellectual tensions led to his trademark skepticism and love of paradox.

The turning point in Socrates's life came when his friend, Chaerephon, went to Delphi to consult the Oracle of Apollo there. The priestess, who was inhaling hallucinatory vapors, told Chaerephon that Socrates was the wisest of men. When Chaerephon later reported this delphic utterance to Socrates, the humble stonemason didn't believe it. He hardly felt wise and he certainly fell short of fulfilling the delphic command to "know thyself." From that point forward, Socrates's mission in life was to determine whether the oracle about his wisdom were true. He went about Athens, in the agora and the neighboring workshops of craftsmen, questioning the smartest people he could find; citizens who, by reputation, were considered wise. What he discovered is that people know lots of things badly.

Somewhat late in life Socrates married Xanthippe. She was thought not to have a good temperament and was referred to as a shrew. Her husband did not prioritize breadwinning. Socrates apocryphally said of marriage, "By all means marry. If you marry well you will be happy. If you don't marry well you will become a philosopher!" He also urged restraint when criticizing other people's marriages: "No one but the husband and wife knows where the sandal pinches."

In the Apology Socrates tells us that he and Xanthippe had three sons. At 70 years of age, he reported having a son who was almost grown and two other boys who were considerably younger. That means he started having children after the age of 50.

The second most important woman in his life was apparently Diotima, who he claimed taught him everything he knew about love. I have no idea what that really means and shall leave his mysterious reference to her to your imagination.

For most of Socrates's early years, life in Athens was good. Then came the Peloponnesian War, the devastating civil war from which Greece never recovered. In the conflict Socrates fought on the side of the Athenian alliance against the Spartans and their alliance. He was what Americans would call a "grunt," a heavily armed infantry soldier or hoplite. 

Up to the age of 70, this combat veteran, Socrates, would have no doubt felt pressure to remain in fairly good physical condition because it was expected that men could defend their polis. Nevertheless, he was showing signs of old age at his trial.

Despite physical limitations, Socrates walked the talk. He did not scold others for failing to exercise temperance and self-control while excusing himself from the same rigors. He had the capacity to endure Herculean physical discomforts for others' sake. One story relates how he gave his sandals to a fellow hoplite who was suffering in the snow. Socrates, barefoot, endured the ordeal cheerfully and without complaint. 

Socrates always consumed wine in moderation and never got drunk. This trait may be one reason that he was able to resist sexual advances and never be seduced. In Plato's Symposium, the reader gets the idea that Alcibiades had a crush on Socrates and tried to seduce his teacher on numerous occasions, without success. Indeed, Socrates urged people to keep romantic love in proper perspective. A much better outlet for the heat of passion is to pursue truth and virtue, wisdom and beauty -- relentlessly pursue them like a man in love. Ultimately he argues that the most worthwhile endeavor a human being can undertake is the arduous search for wisdom, for wisdom is the foundation of the good life.

Socrates was a self-described gadfly who believed it his duty to sting Athenians with their own hypocrisy and smallness of soul. But he did so with a wonderful sense of humor, often ironic and self-deprecating, sometimes cutting and sarcastic. His funny way of questioning authority attracted an estimable following among the youth of Athens.

Among Socrates's students, as we have seen, was Alcibiades, who was no democrat and who led a naval expedition to ignominious defeat in the Peloponnesian War. Guilt by association was counted against Socrates in the tough years following the war. The relationship with Alcibiades and other critics of democracy no doubt hurt Socrates at his trial.

Since Socrates was relentlessly virtuous, the cowards who wanted to take him down had to fabricate charges. Meletus, Anytus, and Lycon accused Socrates variously of atheism, of believing in gods not sanctioned by the state, and of corrupting the youth of Athens with his own idiosyncratic religious beliefs. Socrates was brought before a court. After listening to the testimony of both sides, the jury voted 281 to 220 to convict the old man and sentence him to death. 

About one week after his trial in 399 BC, Socrates drank the cup of poison hemlock in jail, the victim of judicial murder. Soon he became renowned as a martyr for wisdom. 

After the trial and crucifixion of Jesus, the trial and execution of Socrates is arguably the most famous case of judicial murder in world history. Like Jesus he is a supreme example of someone who lived by his principles, even unto death.

In the popular imagination Socrates is usually remembered for two things: for saying, "The unexamined life is not worth living," and for drinking the cup of poison hemlock at his judicial murder. As we have seen, the two are connected: The Establishment, feeling the sting of Socrates's rebuke after years of war, made him the scapegoat for its incompetence and troubles.


V. Philosophy of Socrates

Despite his humble origins, Socrates became a man for the ages. He is justly considered one of the founders of Western philosophy. Even his name is significant, dividing an ancient era in two: the pre-Socratics and what followed.

To be a philosopher in the original, literal sense is to be a "lover of wisdom." Socrates was most definitely that. He was not an academic philosopher in the way we understand the term today; he did not earn degrees or pursue a university career or write articles for peer-reviewed journals. Rather, he was profoundly curious and largely self-taught, and that made him an original. 

Socrates did not create a cosmology or metaphysical system, as many of the pre-Socratic thinkers had. Rather, he pursued the definitions of terms that he believed were essential to living a good life -- piety, justice, virtue, truth, goodness, beauty, love. To define a thing well is the prerequisite to understanding it.

Socrates distinguished himself from two types of public intellectuals in his day, the sophists and the pre-Socratics. Despite being accused by Aristophanes of being a sophist, Socrates actually had no respect for their ilk. For a fee the sophists taught the sons of the wealthy how to use rhetoric and emotion in self-serving ways. Sophists considered it sport to manipulate people out of their convictions, power, or wealth. In democratic Athens, these cunning men focused on manipulating others instead of doing the hard work of reforming themselves.

Socrates was also different from the pre-Socratics. These "scientists" in Asia Minor were doing something new, searching out natural explanations for phenomena that had previously been explained by myths since time out of mind. As pioneering as these thinkers were, Socrates did not show much interest in them. He did not devote his energies to learning from nature; nor from history. He focused rather on how to live the good life in the polis he loved. He said his "teachers" were his conscience (his daemon), the men of Athens, and a woman named Diotima. He learned both by listening to his daemon when it warned him away from doing or saying something; and by conversing with the citizens of Athens, putting questions to them, to see in what ways they spoke in error and in what ways truth. 

In the pages of Plato, Socrates's conversations tended to follow a pattern. 

1. Socrates would approach a respected citizen or recognized expert in some area -- say, the law. Whom he approached was important. The person had to command social respect. Socrates did not want intellectually to "punch down."

2. He would open the conversation by saying he wanted to learn more about some Big Idea -- for example, justice -- because he was not wise when it came to knowing what it was. He'd profess ignorance about the Big Idea, the what of the conversation.

3. Socrates would then ask basic questions about the idea of justice to see what the expert would say. Usually the first round of questions would try to establish a philosophically sound definition that always and everywhere applied, one that did not admit of any exceptions. But because Socrates was a skeptic, no answer offered by his interlocutor ever settled the matter. Every so-called answer just led to more questions. Such dialectical conversation is potentially never ending -- but that is the point. It is hard work to name (and define) things rightly.

4. Never-ending inquiry was just what Socrates sought. Listening carefully to his interlocutor, Socrates would always hear problems with the conventional definitions. Socrates would engage in cross-examination (Greek elenchus) during which he would point out the holes in the expert's definition, or explain why an illustration might be inadequate or an analogy fallacious. At no point in the process would he nastily accuse his interlocutor of being poorly educated -- au contraire. Often he was flattering. But the irony was rich, for the conversation would hold a mirror up to his interlocutor's mind and reveal that the interlocutor was not as educated as he thought he was. Socrates simply let his interlocutor's own words convict him of his ignorance. 

For the Establishment, it was maddening the way Socrates inadvertently humiliated prominent citizens. But it was precisely these democratic leaders who were responsible for the disastrous Peloponnesian War and irreparable decline of a great polis. The result was not good for Socrates: He made enemies in the Establishment and this would prove critical at his trial. Remember, he either implied or told people to their face that "the unexamined life is not worth living." That would be taken as an insult. His persistence in saying such a thing led, when he was seventy years old, to 280 of 501 jurors sentencing him to death by drinking poison hemlock.

In sum, we can say of Socrates the philosopher:  

He wanted us to know the truth to the extent that conversation, reason, and elenchus could uncover it (the concern of epistemology).

He wanted us to listen to our conscience and to behave in a relentlessly moral manner (the concern of ethics).

And in the polis he wanted to live in a community that pursued the good life, the virtuous life (the domain of wisdom), because that is the greatest thing men and women can do. 


VI. Impact of Socrates

To the everlasting chagrin of his enemies, death did not silence Socrates. He would continue to teach, generation after generation, wherever we encounter the Big Ideas -- of philosophy, of liberal education, of the good life. We get an idea of the scale of Socrates's long-term impact when viewing the Renaissance painting by Raphael, The School of Athens
In his great painting, "The School of Athens," Raphael places Socrates among the figures at the top of the steps.
The gadfly is in the olive robe several figures to the left of Plato and Aristotle, who are conversing.
Why do you suppose Raphael paints Socrates with his back to Plato and Aristotle? 

Decisive for Socrates's future impact was the fact that his pupil, Plato, worshipped him. As Henry Adams observed, there are two ways we impact eternity: One is by having children; the other is by teaching. And did Socrates ever impact eternity by teaching Plato. Plato would memorialize Socrates in some three dozen dialogues. Alfred North Whitehead would say that all subsequent philosophy is just a series of footnotes to Plato.

Socrates is not only a founder of the liberal arts tradition in the West. Scholars who have studied him are finding ever stronger links to a number of later giants in the canon. There is evidence, for example, that Shakespeare wove Socrates's teaching into Timon of Athens. "Shakespeare's genius," writes Darly Kaytor, "is at least in part due to his uncanny ability to transform [Socratic] wisdom into fully realized dramatic action."[4] 

Socrates was a master of irony, of the distance between what seems to be and what is. Socrates often strikes the pose that he knows less than everyone else, when it's quite clear from his conversations with Athenians that he knows more than anybody else. He doesn't go around pounding people over the head with his superior knowledge. Rather he lets others arrive at that conclusion after trying to answer his questions. 

Shakespeare was likewise a master of irony, the distance between what seems to be, and what is.[5]

Some 24 centuries after his death, Socrates continues to inspire teachers and thinkers because of the scenes from his life and the way he teaches us today. Again and again in Plato's dialogues, we see that Socrates perfected the art of dialectical conversation with its keen listening and close questioning. Because of his skepticism toward "conventional wisdom," because of his ability to question every easy answer, he is the "patron saint" of both teachers and students who enjoy drilling deep into a topic in the classroom. He is a permanent rebuke to the sophist, a rejection of the person who can make the bad seem good and the good seem bad. Socrates stands for truth.

Indeed, Socrates's life -- his witness, unto death, to truth and virtue -- would make him a hero to all who value a liberal education. A liberal education is that which befits a free human being. This point is worth elaborating. The value of a liberal education is not just that it imparts certain skills -- deep reading, critical thinking, clear communication, and analysis of complex problems through the lenses of different disciplines. 

Above and beyond these admirable skills, a liberal education should impart critically important values -- the values Socrates taught by example. His life is a testament to the proposition that "one becomes free only through a long, arduous apprenticeship of self-mastery, generally under the tutelage of those more in possession of the requisite excellences" than the students are. These, then, are the ultimate values of a liberal education: truth and goodness, virtue and beauty, wisdom and the lifelong quest to know.

So I end on the question that concerns us in this class: Does Socrates deserve to be a role model for your generation? Should precious hours in Western Civ 101 be devoted to teaching future lawyers, engineers, and business leaders who this gadfly was, what he taught, and why he was martyred? I believe so, and my confidence is reinforced every time I reread Plato's Apology and the other early dialogues that tell us about Socrates's life. In Plato's exquisite portrait of his teacher you will come face-to-face with a great human being -- a hero of the liberal arts who implores us to value what is best in us. 

What do we value?

Hopefully we value our conscience. When it comes to conscience, Socrates speaks of the importance of listening to and obeying that inner voice, that "still small voice" that urges us to do the right thing. 

Hopefully we value our character. When it comes to character, Socrates implores us to guard this most precious possession of ours through the relentless pursuit of virtue. You don't sell your soul for a quick buck.

Hopefully we value our knowledge. When it comes to knowledge, Socrates prompts us to seek the truth no matter where it might lead, even when it hurts or confounds. 

Hopefully we value witnessing to others. When it comes to witnessing, Socrates shows us how a besieged man nevertheless exhibits the courage to stand up to malicious accusers and a corrupt society. 

Hopefully we value the democratic way of life, but with due caution. When it comes to democracy, Socrates challenges some of the givens of our day -- above all, our unquestioning faith in popular sovereignty. Today we keep a scorecard on the progress of democracy around the globe and think of democracy as one of the great achievements of Greek civilization. That's why all democratic leaders like a photo op atop the Acropolis, with the Parthenon as the backdrop. But Socrates was pessimistic about democracy, a critic of mass rule. In Book 6 of the Republic (by Plato), Socrates has a conversation with Adeimantus in which he compares democracy to a ship. Out at sea, with a storm on the horizon, who do you want to captain the ship? Just anyone? Or do you want someone who is well trained in piloting and navigation? Letting citizens vote without a proper education is as irresponsible as letting just anyone sail from port without a chart or training and experience as a captain. Now, Socrates would be tried by a jury of 501 of his peers and unjustly convicted and executed. This is not the way a free government should operate. A free government is only sustainable if citizens can govern themselves. Socrates patiently revealed, through conversations that held a mirror up to fellow citizens, that they did not sufficiently understand such basic concepts as justice, piety, virtue, truth, and goodness when applied to themselves. Yet they presumed to govern others?

Do we presume to govern others?

Our nation needs the gadfly's sting right here, right now, to rouse us from the complacency in our soul and the corruption in our society. 

__________________

Notes

[1] This discerning phrase is from R. J. Snell, "Betraying Liberal Education: A Response to President Paxson of Brown University," Public Discourse, October 2, 2017, at URL http://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2017/10/20175/?utm_source=The+Witherspoon+Institute&utm_campaign=506e63ad9c-RSS_EMAIL_CAMPAIGN&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_15ce6af37b-506e63ad9c-84184425.  

[2] Since the original lecture was composed some three decades ago, I felt it important to update the historical ranking in light of the world's larger cumulative population. See URL http://ideas.time.com/2013/12/10/whos-biggest-the-100-most-significant-figures-in-history/. About the survey: "Historically significant figures leave statistical evidence of their presence behind, if one knows where to look for it, and we used several data sources to fuel our ranking algorithms, including Wikipedia, scanned books and Google n-grams.... When we set out to rank the significance of historical figures, we decided to not approach the project the way historians might, through a principled assessment of their individual achievements. Instead, we evaluated each person by aggregating millions of traces of opinions into a computational data-centric analysis. We ranked historical figures just as Google ranks web pages, by integrating a diverse set of measurements about their reputation into a single consensus value."

[3] Snell, "Betraying Liberal Education."

[4] See Darly Kaytor, "Shakespeare's Political Philosophy: A Debt to Plato in Timon of Athens," at URL https://muse.jhu.edu/article/483647/pdf

[5] URL https://markandrealexander.com/2015/07/30/shakespeare-and-plato-the-poetdramatist/

Monday, September 11, 2017

Tonsor: America: Liberal or Conservative at the Founding?

I.

A heavy overcast settled over the Huron Valley. Expecting a cold rain at any moment, I sought shelter in Haven Hall. My hope was to intercept Tonsor coming down from his office, then to accompany him on the walk across the Diag to class. I had the proverbial "deep question" for him. Seeing him emerge from the elevator in his Paddington Bear hat, I greeted him and after pleasantries put my subject before him:

"Professor Tonsor, I am interested in how you think about the American founding. A political philosopher I'm reading says that America was the product of the Enlightenment, meaning that it was founded as a classical liberal nation. According to this view, conservatism in America is just classical liberalism's 'right wing,' pushing for freer markets in a free-market system and smaller government in a federal system. American conservatives are thus not like European conservatives who, in reaction to the French Revolution, sought to restore the ancien regime with its monarchy, mercantilism, and three orders. Since that old-world conservative tradition never existed in the U.S. after the founding, what we call 'conservative' on this side of the Atlantic looks much different from conservatism in Europe. Do you think that conservatism in America is just classical liberalism's right wing and nothing more?"



Tonsor responded: "The question, as you ask it, is not well framed. It tries to make the founding an 'either-or' event: liberal or conservative? But the interpretive methods that characterize the humanities encourage us to think not in terms of 'either-or' but in terms of 'both-and.' Complex events elicit divergences of interpretation. Note that I use the plural, "divergences" of interpretation. Given human incomprehension, it is rare to have just one interpretation that is intellectually sufficient.[1]

"Were we all liberals then? Were we all liberals in 1776 and 1787? That's what you're asking. From the viewpoint of the political philosophers who see the founding as the outcome of debate during the Enlightenment, we were liberal. But is there another way of reading the Founding? Taking in the longer perspective of Western civilization, we might ask: Were we conservative in any sense that is prior to and separate from liberalism? And the answer to that question is, yes, most definitely, if you consider the founders' inheritance from the ancient world and Christendom." 

I said, "That longer perspective is what Russell Kirk achieved in The Roots of American Order."[2] 

"There are many who have looked at the American founding in a longer perspective -- Wilson Carey McWilliams, for instance.[3] But since you are taken with Russell Kirk's argument, Mr. Whitney, I'd like you to elaborate."

Oh, my. I was taken aback when Tonsor suddenly lobbed the question back to me -- it was unusual for him to do so. But since I was the one who had just teed up Kirk's Roots, I had to run with it. The ideas in The Roots were once considered mainstream in the academy,[4] and I had read the book with enthusiasm before moving to Ann Arbor. But in the 1980s the book was hardly ever referenced much less taught in American and Western civ surveys. This presented problems for a graduate student. In the company of the methodological gatekeepers in Michigan's history department, it was best not to cite Kirk's Roots since his thesis was considered out-of-date at best; and racist, sexist, classist, and elitest at worst.

Taking a deep breath I said: "There is truth in the claim of the political philosophers. Since we were the first nation established in the modern age, our political economy was liberal from the start. In the first place, we didn't have a feudal or mercantile economy. We had a modern free-market system that owed much to Adam Smith and the Enlightenment. 

"Second, we didn't have a feudal or absolutist monarchy. Instead we had a mixed constitution that was the result of enlightened reflection [5] on liberal philosophers like Locke and republican thinkers like Montesquieu; the resulting federated polity balanced the primacy of the individual (seen in the liberalism of the Bill of Rights) with the primacy of civic virtue (seen in the republicanism of the Northwest Ordinance, Article III), and did so within a framework of innovative checks and balances to thwart the tyranny of the majority (seen in the Constitution of 1787). 

"Third, we didn't have a social order that looked like the ancien regime with its aristocratic privileges, noble titles, and laws upholding primogeniture. Traditionalist European conservatives -- Joseph de Maistre, Louis de Bonald, and Pio Nono -- hated what we were. They condemned 'Americanism.' Our natural aristocracy renewed itself each generation in a relatively mobile society where most could rise due to merit and a little luck. So, yes, in all these fundamental ways, we were not a conservative European nation but a modern liberal one that owed its founding institutions mostly to the Enlightenment."

"Fine, but is there another way of reading the founding?" asked Tonsor in his laconic way.

"Yes," I said, "there's also truth in the claim that our founding was conservative -- deeply conservative in ways that were prior to and separate from liberalism. Our modern liberal roots, strong as they are, do not tell of deeper roots still. America's deeper cultural roots are revealed in our unwritten constitution, our habits of the heart, and our syncretic worldview -- a fusion that holds in dynamic tension the living traditions of ancient Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome, as well as medieval London."

"I'm surprised," said Tonsor, "that you stop at medieval London. Remember that Protestant and Catholic thinkers were engaging the Enlightenment in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Archbishop Fenelon, Bishop Berkeley, John Locke, John Witherspoon -- they sifted the Age of Reason in light of what Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, and London had to teach.[6] Out of that dynamic tension, out of that struggle between those who argued for continuity and those who argued for change, emerged the Founders' syncretic worldview. The intellectual leaders of the American founding -- Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, Hamilton, Madison, Dickinson, Wilson -- stood atop the pinnacle of that worldview." 

One thing about my conversations with Tonsor: He always kept my mind on the stretch. There was no resting with him. I had never read any Dickinson or Wilson and in fact did not know that they were intellectual leaders of the founding.

"Dr. Kirk," I said, "does speak to our moral and spiritual formation. When Americans go to church or temple on Sunday, we are walking into the space inspired by premodern, illiberal religions that originated in the Near East between two thousand and three thousand years ago.[7] In theory liberalism is neutral when it comes to religion. It claims to have no necessary or sufficient need for citizens to believe in the God of the Christians or the God of the Jews. Yet Judeo-Christian moral norms and spiritual comfort have been a cornerstone of our culture from the start."

"Yes," said Tonsor. "To paraphrase Tocqueville: 'I doubt whether man can ever support at the same time complete religious indifference and complete political freedom. I am inclined to think that if he lacks faith, he will be a subject. But if he believes, he has the chance to be free.' Liberalism, he thought, cannot exist in some theoretical cultural vacuum. It needs religion to prop it up."[8]

Sucking in a larger breath, I said: "Another example Dr. Kirk explores comes from our intellectual formation. When young Americans read Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, and others who inform our defense of reason and discourse, they are entering a space inspired by premodern, pre-liberal philosophies that originated in the eastern Mediterranean more than two thousand years ago.[9] Liberalism does not mandate what must be taught. It tries to be value free when it comes to knowledge. It claims to have no necessary or sufficient need for citizens to pursue the ancient classics that originated prior to and separate from liberalism. Yet we know that deep engagement with the 'great books' expands the competence of citizens to assess the human condition and to judge current events."

Tonsor weighed in: "So it seems that, in addition to religion, liberalism needs the interior reflection encouraged by the humanities to prop it up." 

"I think so, yes," I said in agreement. "Still another example in Kirk comes not from the Anglo-Saxons so much as from medieval England after the Conquest. Liberals would like to take credit for many of the developments that have contributed to ordered freedom in the modern age -- the common law, stare decisis, Parliament, habeas corpus, trial by jury, and other individual rights that were later adopted by liberalism.[10] In truth, they cannot. There was no -ism called liberalism when these rights and innovations appeared in the Middle Ages. Yet their absence today would be unthinkable in liberalism's public square."

Tonsor objected: "Stop right there. Using the term, 'public square,' is such a banal descent into cliche."[11]

"Okay," I said, trying to disguise my pique. Unfortunately, I was becoming used to Tonsor's gratuitous criticism of the way I said things. At the same time, I figuratively slapped my forehead since the word "okay" also made him peevish. If ever I wanted to drive him nuts I could say: "The public square is okay." 

It was probably a good thing that I did not have time to dwell on Tonsor's peevishness since we had mounted the stairs and were entering the classroom. I was proud of myself for making the case that classical liberalism could not fully account for the American mind. Using Kirk, I had pulled back the curtain on our founders' deeper conservative roots -- evidenced by the living traditions they embraced from Semitic Jerusalem, Mediterranean Athens, cosmopolitan Rome, and Germanic London. Conservatism was not just the right wing of classical liberalism but something much richer.


II.

After Tonsor slapped his satchel down on the table at the front of the class, he came back to the desk into which I was settling. "You know, Mr. Whitney, we must talk more about The Roots. It's a beautiful work in conception but a flawed work in execution."

My professor's words reminded me of something I'd read between Fort Collins and Ann Arbor the previous summer. At the beginning of the road trip to Michigan I had grappled with Tonsor's "The United States as a 'Revolutionary Society,'"[12] and it occurred to me then that his 1975 essay might be a critique of Kirk's 1974 book. Both were written in anticipation of America's bicentennial celebration, and both sought to plumb the meaning of the American experience. 

Tonsor's thesis was that the American founding revitalized Britain's governing principles and thus could be seen as a conservative event. However, in the process of revitalizing Britain's governing principles, the American founding also unleashed the ideas of liberty and equality to an unexpected degree. After 1776, the empire of liberty would spread as never before. Also after 1776 and especially after the four Civil War years culminating in 1865 -- what Lord Acton called "the Second American Revolution"[13] -- the empire of equality would spread as never before. The American founding, paradoxically, was just as much an act of revolution as it was an act of conservation. Looking back, Kirk had focused on the American founding as a fusion of the living traditions of four old cities -- Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, and London. Looking forward, Tonsor saw the American Revolution as a launchpad that took man's aspiration for more liberty and more equality to new heights. It was both-and: both a conservative and an innovative event; both a stroke for liberty and a stroke for equality.

Given my admiration for both men, I needed to come to terms with the tension between Kirk's and Tonsor's interpretation of the founding era. Each in his own way seemed to sound the right note. Could their notes be harmonized? The Roots was one of my favorite works of history, plumbing the subjects I liked to think about most. It played no small part in my decision to pursue graduate studies in history. The Roots was also an important work since it preserved an interpretation of American history that was important to keep alive, somewhere, anywhere, in the postmodern academy that dismissed it amid a swarm of deconstructing "narratives." But Tonsor's insight was also critically important to understanding how America became the country she was. Could I keep the thought of both men in dynamic tension? 

Kirk published the Roots in 1974 in anticipation
of America's bicentennial celebration.
_________________

Notes

[1] Tonsor thought that the most difficult problems of modern history did not usually involve what happened but why it happened. Rarely was there just one correct interpretation of why a historical event or movement occurred. Sifting a variety of interpretations was thus a fixity in Stephen Tonsor's thought. He demonstrated appreciation for different interpretations in one of his first publications after graduate school, when he assembled and compared then-current interpretations of Nazism: Stephen J. Tonsor, National Socialism: Conservative Reaction or Nihilist Revolt? (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1959). The pamphlet is in a series called "Source Problems in World Civilization." In a statement that serves as the foreword, the publisher explains that the task of the historian "is essentially one of selection ... for it is only through selection that knowledge can be arranged in meaningful and usable patterns." Tonsor's pamphlet is a selection of the most compelling interpretations of the philosophical and ideological roots of Nazism. Tonsor concludes: "Perhaps the variety and contradiction in the four major interpretations of National Socialism [in this pamphlet] suggest the difficulty involved in reaching conclusions concerning any historical event or movement. Moreover, these are only four among many interpretations.... If the judgments of [conflicting students and historians] are sometimes ambiguous or slow in coming, perhaps the fault lies in mankind's incomprehension rather than in history's opaqueness." (pp. i, 26, 27).

[2] Russell Kirk, The Roots of American Order (Malibu: Pepperdine University Press, 1974). 

[3] Wilson Carey McWilliams, The Idea of Fraternity in America (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973). This award-winning book treats some of the same themes as Kirk's Roots and Tonsor's "The United States as a 'Revolutionary Society,'" but precedes them both.

[4] For an earlier statement of Kirk's basic thesis, see the address by the former president of the American Historical Association, Carlton J. H. Hayes, "The American Frontier -- Frontier of What?" December 27, 1945, American Historical Review, vol. 50, no. 2 (January 1946): 199-216, at URL https://www.historians.org/about-aha-and-membership/aha-history-and-archives/presidential-addresses/carlton-j-h-hayes. 

[5] Alexander Hamilton, Federalist Papers, 1 and 9, 1787. 

[6] For a recent study of the traditionalists' confrontation with the Enlightenment, see Ulrich L. Lehner, The Catholic Enlightenment: The Forgotten History of a Global Movement (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016).

[7] Kirk, Roots, chaps. 2, 5.

[8] Stephen J. Tonsor, "Et tu, brutish?" Christian Science Monitor, April 9, 1979, p. B36.

[9] Kirk, Roots, chaps. 3-4.

[10] Kirk, Roots, chap. 6.

[11] Both Tonsor and I were alluding to a recently published book by Richard John Neuhaus, The Naked Public Square: Religion and Democracy in America (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984).

[12] Stephen J. Tonsor, "The United States as a 'Revolutionary Society,'" Modern Age, vol. 19, no. 2 (spring 1975): 136-45.

[13] Stephen J. Tonsor, "Quest for Liberty: America in Acton's Thought," Introduction by James C. Holland (Grand Rapids, MI: Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty, Occasional Paper No. 1, 1993).



Wednesday, October 12, 2016

2016: What's Going On?

A shorter version of this written text was delivered by Hauenstein Center Director Gleaves Whitney at the 2016 Inaugural Wheelhouse Talk, Grand Valley State University, Friday, October 7, 2016.

Age of Anxiety

In 2016 Americans find themselves in one of the most contentious political contests in U.S. history. Soon there will be 51 elections to determine who will serve as the 45th president of the United States. Two very flawed candidates and the ethical controversies surrounding them have unloosed a Niagara of uncertainties, and Americans are feeling anxiety.[1]

Anxiety, because Americans' life expectancy is declining for the first time in two decades.

Anxiety, because two of every three Americans think our nation is on the wrong track.[2] The ISIS “JV team” has turned into an NBA pro team.[3] The murder rate in the last year has jumped more than 40 percent.[4] Racial tensions are as bad as they have been in decades.[5] Health care did not get fixed. The economy did not start rolling. And tensions with Russia are heating up to Cold War levels.

Anxiety, because 80 percent of Americans do not trust the federal government or think its programs are well run. It's at the lowest level since polling on the question began more than 50 years ago.[6]

Anxiety, because this year’s Republican and Democratic presidential candidates are, depending on whom you talk to, either the most repugnant or the most untrustworthy in American history.[7]

Edvard Munch, "The Scream" (1893)
Anxiety, because Donald Trump, who is neither a Reagan Republican nor a conservative, nevertheless captured the Republican nomination. The GOP is his party now, and as a result both the party and the movement[8] are in disarray.


Anxiety, because Bernie Sanders, a socialist, made a credible run for the Democratic nomination and successfully moved the Democratic Party platform farther left than it has ever been. It is fair to say that, had it not been for the electoral interference of the massive Clinton machine, Sanders would have won the nomination and we would be looking at a Sanders-Trump contest for the White House on November 8th.[9]

Anxiety, because the odds-makers' favorite to win the election, Hillary Clinton, is under the greatest cloud of distrust (64 percent) a modern, major-party candidate has experienced. Even if she wins she loses.

Anxiety, because we are bracing for the Next Big Thing when it comes to political realignment. The necessary conditions seem to be gathering like storm clouds on the horizon. We can only guess what it will look like, but realignments occur when some combination of (1) crisis, (2) demographic change, (3) the serious fracturing of a major party, (4) a rising third party, and (5) new leadership and ideas push themselves to the fore. People are increasingly wondering if realignment on the order of 1860, 1932, and 1980 is under way or on the way.[10] It certainly seems that the neglected, white, working class has become a resurgent political force with which to reckon.

There’s anxiety about a new force in politics, social media. Outrageous sums of money will be spent on this presidential contest – more than one billion dollars.[11] Millions of those dollars are for television buys, to no effect. Meanwhile, tweets are moving mountains. Not ground games but rallies will get people to the polls. Are we headed for rule by crowds and plebiscites?

There’s anxiety on the right about the left, because of its open declarations of victory in the culture wars.

There’s anxiety on the left about the right, because of its lurch toward populism, nativism, and protectionism.

There’s anxiety throughout the political establishment because the cozy relationships with special interests are being shaken to the foundations. Did you know that the largest category of voters today is not Democratic, not Republican, but Independent?[12]

We can sum up the Age of Anxiety with two quotations. One is by MSNBC personality Joe Scarborough: “Sanders and Trump fulfill the urge many Americans feel to punch Washington in the face!” The other is by filmmaker Michael Moore: “I live in Michigan. Across the Midwest, across the Rustbelt, a lot of people are angry. They see Donald Trump as their human Molotov cocktail. They get to go into the voting booth on November 8th and throw him into a political system that has made their lives miserable.”[13]

America Transformed

Beyond these election-year surprises, there are long-term forces that pile on the anxiety, at least for certain groups of people. These forces show that we are a different nation from the one passed down to us a generation or two ago.

Look at America’s changing class structure: For the first time in our adult lives, less than 50 percent of the U.S. population is middle class.[14]

Look at our new “greatest generation.” As of April 2016, millennials had overtaken baby boomers, so future elections will increasingly be determined by today’s 18-35 year-old set.[15] The World War II generation is, electorally speaking, insignificant. The baby boomers are increasingly irrelevant because they are starting to die off. They also, as Yuval Levin points out, split roughly down the middle in presidential elections. Baby boomers are consumed by the politics of nostalgia. One half of us embrace nostalgia for the 1950s/1980s and tend to vote Republican. The other half of us embrace nostalgia for the 1960s and tend to vote Democratic. The two halves often cancel each other out in presidential elections.[16] That’s why the real action is shifting to the millennials. Bernie Sanders knows that they are still in intellectual and moral formation. He will concede that Hillary Clinton won the battle of 2016 – she is the Democrats’ nominee – but he intends to win the war. The social democrat has said that, come January 21st, after celebrating Hillary Clinton’s inauguration, he will go to work to win the hearts and shape the values of college-educated millennials since they will determine the future of our country.[17]

These millennials are different from their parents.[18] For one thing, they do not have the historic memory of socialism that their elders do. When you say “socialism” to baby boomers or the World War II generation, they think: gulag archipelago, Checkpoint Charlie, and the Berlin Wall. When you say “socialism” to millennials, they think: Volvo and Ikea. The different mix of associations perhaps explains why millennials are not as wary of authoritarian regimes as older Americans are.[19]

Look at our changing demography. Whites will no longer be a majority but a plurality in 2043[20] – that’s just 27 years from now. Already one of every eight counties is majority-minority. In large part because of the Immigration Act of 1965,[21] families are being transformed. Take, for example, the WASPish Whitney family. When I was a child every last member of my family was a white Caucasian. Today I have a Vietnamese stepmother, an African-American niece, a Chinese-American niece, two Jewish nephews, and (hopefully) a soon-to-be Sri Lankan daughter-in-law.

Look at our changing religion. The last decade has seen the most dramatic decline in U.S. history of Americans who are 100 percent certain that God exists – from 70 percent to 60 percent.[22] And even though the United States still has the largest number of Christians of any nation, there has been a similar decline in people who self-identify with that religion. We know about the dramatic growth of the “nones,” young people who describe themselves as spiritual but who are not members of an organized religion.[23]

Look at federal spending. Our national debt is reaching an unsustainable level – it is $19.5 trillion and growing. Into the foreseeable future, American taxpayers will be paying hundreds of billions of dollars each year in interest on the national debt -- about one in every four tax dollars.[24] Soon it will be the federal government's third largest "program." This is money that will not go to social services or defense or other priorities in the future. As my son Alasdair says to me, “The baby boomers ripped off my generation. My generation will have to pay for the reckless spending spree your generation went on in Washington year after year. Both Democrats and Republicans are at fault.”

As if the foregoing were not enough to rock our world, look at the revolution in our midst that is proving to be every bit as far reaching as the French and Industrial revolutions. And it’s not finished, and we are starting to see it as a driver of massive change.

We cannot even wrap our minds around this upheaval that, for convenience, we shall call the “digital revolution.” Johns Hopkins fellow Alec Ross[25] points to a stunning fact. Every two days as much data has been produced as all the information humans produced between the cave paintings and 2003. The applications of a world coded in zeros and ones are dizzying – driverless cars, precision agriculture, artificial intelligence, robotics, the digital transfer of entire libraries. Did you know that every six hours, the National Security Agency (NSA) is gathering as much information as is stored in the entire Library of Congress?[26] And that it can fit in an object smaller than a key fob?[27] I should think that fact alone would make most Americans anti-statist!

Ross also notes that you can divide the digital revolution into two phases: the world’s last trillion-dollar industry that arose from digital coding, and the world’s next trillion-dollar industry that is coming from genetic coding; the genomic therapies that are being developed now will soon be eliminating diseases and extending life by three to five years.

The digital revolution is breathtaking to those who have the education to access and manipulate it; and it is heartbreaking to those who do not. While many industries and communities are making the digital pivot, not all will. Those that successfully pivot and embrace the digital revolution will prosper. Those that don’t will become slums of despair. The people in the slums of despair will be susceptible to radicalization by the far left and the far right. The truck drivers, the janitors, the hotel maids, the people who fold clothes – if they are not part of the digital revolution, they might become part of a counter-revolution, and tear down what they cannot build up.

Ross illustrates what is happening with a powerful anecdote. There is a businessman in China who owns factories that used to employ almost one million people on assembly lines. He made the digital pivot and brought in robots to work the assembly line. As he said, robots don’t ask for raises; they don’t steal from the company; they don’t get sick; they don’t get tired – they work 24/7 with nary an HR issue. The robots were so successful that this factory owner let go 600,000 people. Ladies and gentlemen, scaled to America, such layoffs could generate a lot of realignment.

As my friend Joe Lehman, president of the Mackinac Center, likes to say: “Here come the robots and the pitchforks aren’t far behind.”

When thinking about the consequences of the digital revolution, it’s not a failure of understanding that worries me; it’s a failure of imagination. To visualize what a digital dystopia might look like, I’d recommend you read Kurt Vonnegut’s first novel, Player Piano. It was written in 1952 and describes a world in which physical labor is eliminated, a world in which people whose vocation it is to work with their hands are left out in the cold.[28]

All this confluence of change was unthinkable just 18 months ago.

One thing has not changed in this exploding landscape: The center does not hold; our society is torn, this way and that, by disintegrating forces that coarsen and cleave the culture.

To understand how we got to this point, I urge you to familiarize yourselves with an international bestseller that went through thirty editions and that has already articulated almost every one of the challenges we face. Its author warns us not to neglect the rising national debt, the growing inequality, the inexorable generational change, the eroding power of the middle class, and the intractable racism that continues to plague society. Did I forget to mention that this bestseller was written in the eighteenth century by the Abbé Raynal, and that he predicted the outbreak of the French Revolution?[29]

Liberal Education

When my wife Mary Eilleen heard the first draft of my remarks, she worried that it was too depressing. She said everyone should take Prozac before coming to the talk. Don’t despair -- I have a hopeful message. Shortly, in fact, I will give you 71 reasons to hope.

But first, let’s counter the anxiety by looking at some of the good things right under our nose. Our university, for starters. We are fortunate to learn and work in a place committed to a liberal education. What is a liberal education?

1. A liberal education transmits the civilization's intellectual patrimony to the rising generation. This task is important because, as Daniel Boorstin observed, "Trying to [impact] the future without knowing the past is like trying to plant cut flowers." So it is essential to the intellectual and moral formation of future leaders.

2. Further, in these increasingly fractious times, survival belongs not to the strongest, but to the most adaptable. The liberal arts develop the perennial skills – close reading, rigorous analysis, critical thinking, clear writing, ethical understanding, and fluency in a foreign language or two – skills that help people adapt in a rapidly changing world. I have an entire file of clippings about successful CEOs who are liberally educated and want to surround themselves with others who are likewise educated.

3. Moreover, a liberal education is a liberating education. As the past president of the University of Chicago, Robert Hutchins, used to say, “A liberal education … frees a [person] from the prison house of his class, race, time, place, background, family, and even his nation.”[30] This does not mean that a person becomes disrespectful of their background, family, nation, and traditions. It means that a person liberally educated is empowered to tap into our common humanity. Sooner or later every thoughtful person must grapple with meaning and mortality, principle and purpose. It is no exaggeration that the liberal arts can give us a reason to get us out of bed in the morning.

Say again?

Consider the story of Admiral James Bond Stockdale. You may recall that he was a vice presidential candidate on the Reform Party ticket in 1992.[31] But the most critical chapter of his life occurred a quarter-century earlier, during the Vietnam War. Admiral Stockdale tells an unforgettable story of why his liberal education was not just an ornament on his resume but the key to his survival. At the start of America’s involvement in the Vietnam War, Admiral Stockdale was deployed to fly combat missions over North Vietnam. On an early sortie, his plane was badly shot up and he had to eject. As he floated down to the ground, soldiers started yelling and aiming their guns at him. All of a sudden the thought struck him that if he survived and was confined as a POW, he would need to remember the lessons he had learned in graduate school. In the seconds before he was captured, his mind flashed back to his days at Stanford University, to a philosophy professor who took him under his wing, to a Stoic author they had read together: the author was Epictetus and the book was the Enchiridion. Epictetus taught that there is only one thing that belongs to the individual fully, and that is his will, his sense of purpose. We must distinguish between what we can change and what we cannot change. It does no good to rail against the gods about the things we cannot change. Epictetus’s Stoic outlook equipped Admiral Stockdale to face extreme adversity in a North Vietnamese prison. He credited Epictetus with keeping him morally free during many years of brutal captivity. And he credited his philosophy and faith for empowering him to see the humanity of his captors and thus to forgive them.[32]

4. We have all had the experience of identifying with a hero in a biography, novel, or movie who inspires us to reach higher, go farther, be better. Well, a liberal education has the same goal. It seeks to instill sympathetic identification (German Einfühlung) with all manner of people. It extends our awareness of the different types of individuals who inhabit our world. It habituates our minds to see our common humanity with others. Look at how a novel draws us into a type of person we’d never otherwise encounter. Look at how history is time travel that takes us to that wonderfully distant country, the past. Successful study of the past requires that we step out of the parochial present, put ourselves in the shoes of another human being, and try to see life from their viewpoint. This is why the liberal arts go a long way to tempering racism, sexism, and other destructive biases in our social relations.[33]

Common Ground Initiative

As can be gleaned from the foregoing, at the heart of our university is liberal education; at the heart of liberal education is sympathetic identification; and at the heart of sympathetic identification is the possibility of finding common ground with others.

Indeed, common ground is the organizing principle of the Hauenstein Center’s aptly named Common Ground Initiative.[34] Established in 2013, our Common Ground Initiative is the first if not the only such program in higher education in the U.S. We seek to rebuild confidence and participation in our public institutions. To do so we invite progressives and conservatives to come together on the same stage and explore their similarities and differences. Of course, there is always risk when bringing conservatives and liberals together. As the wit, Ambrose Bierce, observed, a conservative is “a statesman enamored of existing evils, as distinguished from the Liberal who wishes to replace them with others.”[35]

The focus on sympathetic identification does not mean that we shy away from intellectual and moral argument. Au contraire, we encourage respectful argument because “to hone one’s mind against the gritty stone of another” produces moral and intellectual excellence.[36] It forces us to examine our truth claims in a real and honest way.

Election year 2016 could not have played out better for showing how needed our Common Ground Initiative is – not just because of the polarization of the electorate; not just because of the extreme discourse; but also because progressives and conservatives have started to rethink their first principles. In the process, we challenge the two camps to discover where common philosophical, historical, political, and cultural ground might exist.

The liberal arts are indispensable to the endeavor.

For example, from literature we learn the truth taught by Walt Whitman, that we can respect the opinions of others because we first recognize those same opinions in ourselves. As his poem “Song of Myself” puts it, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then. I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.”

From Jonathan Haidt’s work in evolutionary psychology, we learn another truth. When it comes to their moral outlook, conservatives and progressives actually have more in common than they usually recognize or are willing to admit.[37]

From psychology we learn a truth taught by Dr. John Gottman in his lab at the University of Washington.[38] He details the nonverbal signals we can and must avoid if we want to communicate with each other and find common ground.

From political philosophy we learn a truth from two scholars, Cornel West and Robert George, who hold quite different views. They delighted a Hauenstein Center audience when each said of the other: “He is my brother in the search for truth.”[39]

From anthropology we learn that there have been some 6,000 cultures. Most are unitary in that there is one authoritative source of beliefs, values, and attitudes in the culture. By contrast, a few cultures are binary because they have two authoritative sources of beliefs, values, and attitudes; the members of binary cultures must learn to mediate between the two competing sources if psychological integration and social harmony are to be preserved.

From history we learn that Western civilization is a binary culture. Members of our culture must mediate between the modern, scientific, Enlightenment source of values on the one hand, and the ancient philosophical and medieval religious source of values on the other. Both are authoritative. The former has helped shape our conception of nature, natural law, and natural right; the latter, our belief in the dignity of all human beings.

From political history, we learn how delegates at the Constitutional Convention of 1787, despite holding quite diverse opinions and even different anthropologies, forged one of the world's great political documents. The U.S. Constitution is a masterpiece of power dilution. Indeed, the framers diluted and dispersed power so effectively that political parties had to come into being to get anything done.

Cynics in 2016 will wonder if that was a good thing! Cynics will also say we are Pollyannaish: “In America,” they will say, “there are two parties. One is the evil party and the other is the stupid party. Occasionally they get together and pass legislation that is both evil and stupid. They call it bipartisanship.”[40]

We are not so cynical. At the Hauenstein Center, grounded as we are in the liberal arts and dedicated to the pursuit of common ground for the common good, students learn a lot of different ways to build bridges to each other.

My own approach to common ground starts with our binary Western civilization and its two sources of values. Borrowing from physics, I apply the metaphor of the force field that keeps the two sources together. On the one side you have the liberal source of progressive values from the secular Enlightenment; on the other side you have the philosophical and religious source of conservative values from antiquity and the Middle Ages. A principal reason our civilization has been so dynamic is that those two different sources of values have for centuries remained in productive tension, as though held together by a force field. Our Common Ground Initiative throws itself into this force field. It recognizes the value of both sources and seeks to keep them close enough to remain in communication with one another, yet distant enough to make their own distinctive contributions to humankind.

What impresses me in my study of history is the staggering number of areas – in law, science, the arts, and humanities – where there has been overlap between the two sources. Look at the abolition movement. Abolitionists used both Enlightenment values and Judeo-Christian values to build their case against slavery. Students were at the forefront of the reform. We forget that there has always been a powerful tradition of student activism in our nation, one that goes back further than the sixties. America’s first great student protests were organized in 1834 around opposition to slavery. That student rebellion turned out to be a dress rehearsal for the Freedom Summer of 1964, when the civil rights movement swept the land.[41]

 Leadership

Let’s take a moment to recap. Thus far in these remarks, we have looked at the divisiveness and anxiety surrounding Election 2016. We have looked at how a liberal education can play a promising role in bringing Americans back together. A liberal education imparts the sympathetic identification that can help bridge the chasm between people whose life experiences are different from one another. We also looked at the binary nature of our western culture with its two different sources of values. The fact that they are different means a lot of civic energy and policy tensions are constantly being generated in the public square.

Allow me to reiterate that our Common Ground Initiative embraces this civic tension, this cultural polarization that has characterized American life from the start. We focus not just on the liberal Enlightenment source of values, nor just on the Judeo-Christian source of values, but on the force field that keeps the two in productive tension. Ladies and gentlemen, for our democracy to work, it is imperative that Americans harness the civic energy that is generated by this cultural polarization, and channel this energy on behalf of the common good. That’s precisely what the Hauenstein Center’s Common Ground Initiative aims to do.

Another way of understanding our Common Ground Initiative is through the work of the historian Carl Becker, who studied how the Judeo-Christian tradition brought forth the secular Enlightenment.[42] It’s a parent-child relationship: they are distinct entities; one is older than the other; there is always tension in the relationship; but there is also much common ground between them, because they are family, after all, and can relate to each other, hopefully without resorting to patricide!

Moving forward, what is to be done? Voltaire had a good answer. When you live in tough times, at the very least you can tend your own garden. How do we tend our garden at Grand Valley, at the Hauenstein Center, at our Cook Leadership Academy? We grow leaders.

Since this is a Wheelhouse Talk, let me direct the conclusion of these remarks to the emerging leaders in our Cook Leadership Academy. I promised you 71 reasons for hope, and this year’s 71 CLA fellows are that hope.

Leadership fellows: During your time with us, I want you to do four things.

First, get the most out of your education at this university. Learn as much as you can. Be engaged. Be conversant about the key challenges Americans face. Train your mind to refocus not just on the liberal view of things nor just on the conservative view of things, but on the force field that holds them together. One first-rate resource is our Common Ground Podcast at www.hauensteincenter.org/podcast, which originates in New York City and hosts leading thinkers and thinking leaders from both the left and the right.

Second, be alert to the ways that your major is teaching you to find principled common ground in your discipline and your profession.

Third, get to know your mentor. The scholars who have examined the Hauenstein Center inform me that, in higher education, our Cook Leadership Academy has become a center of excellence in the Midwest. Among the reasons is that we have one of the best mentor programs in the nation. Most college leadership programs match students with academic mentors. Ours is unusual in that we have both community and academic mentors, all helping with your development into ethical, effective leaders.

Finally, begin to discern your civic mission. As apprentice leaders, it is not too soon to carve out a space for common ground in your community and beyond.

If you lean left, you are no doubt committed to helping historically marginalized groups enter the mainstream. You seek social justice on their behalf. Find the local organization that best expresses your values. Be alert to how that work will prepare you to move to a larger stage in business, government, or non-governmental organizations. An inspiration for many progressives is Barack Obama, who went from being a community organizer, to an Illinois senator, to a U.S. senator, to the 44th president of the United States. Each step of the way, he had to challenge increasingly diverse factions to find common ground.

If you lean right, recall how people skilled at finding common ground built up postwar conservatism. It began with the vision of a remnant who could keep the embers of freedom glowing (Albert Jay Nock). It grew to include the leaders of various little platoons (Russell Kirk of the traditionalists, Milton Friedman of the libertarians, and Whittaker Chambers of the anti-communists). It then relied on the fusionists who could build a movement (William F. Buckley Jr. and Frank Meyer). Next came the politicians who could forge an electoral majority (starting with Barry Goldwater and culminating in Ronald Reagan). Finally it needed statesmen who could govern a diverse coalition of Republicans, Independents, and Democrats (Reagan, G. H. W. Bush, congressional leaders, and Supreme Court justices). The ever-enlarging scale required greater and greater skill at forging common ground. It’s how power is managed in America. 

I must add that Ralph Hauenstein’s last great hope for the center that bears his name was that one or more of you leadership fellows will set your sights high and accept the ultimate leadership challenge, that of a statesman who can unify our nation.

Students, you may be only 10 percent of our population,[43] but you are 100 percent of our future. Our country will be looking to you for inspired leadership. You have a mission and that mission is not impossible. As you seek out the heroic mantle you will assume as leaders, wow us with your energy, your idealism, and your hard work. Go forth, and dare to do great things.

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[3] Alex Castellanos, commentary on ABC, This Week with George Stephanopoulos, October 9, 2016.
[4] Rudi Guiliani, commentary on ABC, This Week with George Stephanopoulos, October 9, 2016.
[10] Lee Edwards, “Is 2016 a ‘Critical Election’?” remarks to the panel, “Democrats and Republicans Today: Chances of Realignment Looking Forward,” Philadelphia Society 2016 Fall Meeting, Philadelphia, PA, October 1, 2016.
[13] Joe Scarborough and Michael Moore, commentary on MSNBC, Morning Joe, October 3, 2016.
[16] Yuval Levin, The Fractured Republic (New York: Basic Books, 2016).
[25] Alec Ross, “A Look at Industries of the Future and the Disruptive Trends and Changes Happening in Business,” speech presented to the West Michigan Policy Forum and Economic Club of Grand Rapids, September 26, 2016.
[32] James Bond Stockdale, Courage Under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in a Laboratory of Human Behavior (Stanford University: Hoover Institution on War, Revolution, and Peace, 1993).
[35] Ambrose Bierce quotation at URL https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/14403.Ambrose_Bierce?page=2, accessed October 6, 2016.
[36] Stephen J. Tonsor, Introduction, The Legacy of an Education, by James C. Holland (Grand Rapids, MI: Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and LIberty, occasional paper no. 11, 1997); Kindle edition, loc. 34. 
[37] Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (New York: Pantheon, 2012).
[38] URL https://www.gottman.com/, accessed October 7, 2016.
[39] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7pCmGna_20.
[40] Attributed to M. Stanton Evans, and quoted by George H. Nash, “History and Meaning of American Political Parties,” luncheon address to the Philadelphia Society, October 1, 2016.
[41] Jack Kelly, Heaven’s Ditch: God, Gold, and Murder on the Erie Canal (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2016), p. 221-25.
[42] Carl L. Becker, The Heavenly City of the Eighteenth-Century Philosophers (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1932).