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You are here: Home / Archives for common ground

How Can We Hold Our Common Ground?

February 17, 2019 By David Griesing Leave a Comment

Our relationships at work are harmed when we disagree with others and experience their convictions as an assault on what we believe is right and true.
 
Without basic trust—along with at least some beliefs and convictions that we hold in common—it becomes almost impossible to move forward with our co-workers productively, but:
 
– How can I be confident in somebody’s judgments at work when their judgments in politics are so offensive?
 
– How could I ever collaborate with, even be friends with, somebody I disagree with so fundamentally?
 
– If, as has been repeatedly demonstrated, the most productive meetings and collaborations are comprised of people with divergent opinions who are both willing and able to declare them, then how can the right people ever come together and accomplish anything worthwhile when (deep down) they distrust and often loathe what those who disagree with them stand for?
 
– What must members of a group share with one another in order to disagree deeply yet not fall into disarray while doing so?
 
– How can those who fall on different sides of the most divisive issues still be friends, collaborators, co-workers, or citizens who remain able to fight for the same future together?
 
– How small can their common ground be and still be enough?
 
These are the questions that two prominent teachers, who happen to stand on opposite ends of the political divide, have been asking when they come together.

A Conversation with Cornel West and Robert George on Friendship and Faith Across Political Differences – February 8, 2019

And it wasn’t just this joint appearance. Cornel West and Robert George have been on a road show talking about their friendship, their profound differences, and their common ground for several years now. 

I overheard one of their conversations for the first time in a Wall Street Journal op-ed last year. In it, they made a radical suggestion. In order to gain an ethical perspective on any issue, try to imagine (and then follow through on) whatever Martin Luther King would have done under the same circumstances. I was moved enough by it that it became the subject of a newsletter I called “Trying on a Hero’s Perspective.”  

Well they were at it again at Duke a couple of Fridays ago, and a video of their hour-long talk (with another half-hour of follow-up questions) came on-line last week. If you’re interested in spending a fascinating hour, you can safely start the recording at the half hour-mark following their voluminous greetings—but make sure and stay tuned through the questions at the end.

I hope the following summary of their remarks peaks your interest in listening to what West and George actually said that night as they gestured towards the “thin” foundation of commonality we all share and need to preserve; the kind of person you’ll need to be in order to champion it; and some additional ways that you can go about doing so.

1.         A Thin Foundation of Commonality

At the beginning of their conversation, George wonders:

How thin a basic set of shared values can you have and still share enough to have a relationship where you can disagree and still have a friendship? 

Of course, his first answer was reflected in his longstanding friendship with Cornel West. 

George then reminds us that America never became a nation because we had the same ethnicity or religion but because we shared “a political set of values,” as both Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King reminded us during two of the most divisive periods in our history. George believes that we do share enough “to flourish in our pluralism,” but that there are serious dangers too, and we are seeing many of the warning signs today.  We always “wrap emotions around our convictions to get things done”—and wouldn’t accomplish anything if we didn’t—but when those emotions are “wrapped too tightly” we become dogmatic, identifying too closely with our beliefs.  We experience any challenge to our convictions “as a personal assault” which separates us from one another while creating hostility.  Because of these tendencies, every pluralistic society rests on very thin ice. 

It is not just America. George talks about the Hutus and Tutsis living together peacefully in Rwanda for many years until leaders enflamed local rivalries and friendly co-existence devolved into mass murder. George has a Syrian parent and visited his family’s home village in Syria a decade ago when Christians and Muslims were living and working together peacefully until it too turned into “a genocidal nightmare.”  He reminds us that in democracies in particular, “civic friendship is very fragile,” and that whenever that friendship is lost, democracy tends to be replaced by tyranny.

Cornel West picked up the theme by rejecting both Plato’s and Dostoevsky’s views on society in favor of a vision that was championed by America’s Founding Fathers. Plato argued that the public was too emotional and ignorant to sustain a more inclusive form of governance, while Dostoevsky was convinced that most individuals don’t want to be free, preferring “pied pipers” to lead them and “magic” to amuse them. Instead, America’s founders believed that citizens could rise to the occasion and govern themselves because of basic principles they shared, memorializing this common ground in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. But Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Paine also knew that “If you don’t renew the democratic possibilities, you are going to lose them.”

In their conversation at Duke, neither George nor West describe the foundation that needs continuous renewal beyond their reference to America’s founding, but they do address key aspects of it elsewhere. “Truth Seeking, Democracy, and Freedom of Thought and Expression-A Statement by Robert P. George and Cornel West” is a statement of principles which they published (and asked other concerned Americans to sign onto) in March of 2017. It is a key part of their joint effort to renew our democratic possibilities so that there continues to be “enough” of a foundation to support our civic friendship. This is a link if you wish to add your signature to it. (Please drop me a line if you do!) And here is their statement in full:

The pursuit of knowledge and the maintenance of a free and democratic society require the cultivation and practice of the virtues of intellectual humility, openness of mind, and, above all, love of truth. These virtues will manifest themselves and be strengthened by one’s willingness to listen attentively and respectfully to intelligent people who challenge one’s beliefs and who represent causes one disagrees with and points of view one does not share.
 
That’s why all of us should seek respectfully to engage with people who challenge our views. And we should oppose efforts to silence those with whom we disagree—“especially on college and university campuses. As John Stuart Mill taught, a recognition of the possibility that we may be in error is a good reason to listen to and honestly consider—and not merely to tolerate grudgingly—points of view that we do not share, and even perspectives that we find shocking or scandalous. What’s more, as Mill noted, even if one happens to be right about this or that disputed matter, seriously and respectfully engaging people who disagree will deepen one’s understanding of the truth and sharpen one’s ability to defend it.
 
None of us is infallible. Whether you are a person of the left, the right, or the center, there are reasonable people of goodwill who do not share your fundamental convictions. This does not mean that all opinions are equally valid or that all speakers are equally worth listening to. It certainly does not mean that there is no truth to be discovered. Nor does it mean that you are necessarily wrong. But they are not necessarily wrong either. So someone who has not fallen into the idolatry of worshiping his or her own opinions and loving them above truth itself will want to listen to people who see things differently in order to learn what considerations—evidence, reasons, arguments—led them to a place different from where one happens, at least for now, to find oneself.
 
All of us should be willing—even eager—to engage with anyone who is prepared to do business in the currency of truth-seeking discourse by offering reasons, marshaling evidence, and making arguments. The more important the subject under discussion, the more willing we should be to listen and engage—especially if the person with whom we are in conversation will challenge our deeply held—even our most cherished and identity-forming—beliefs.
 
It is all-too-common these days for people to try to immunize from criticism opinions that happen to be dominant in their particular communities. Sometimes this is done by questioning the motives and thus stigmatizing those who dissent from prevailing opinions; or by disrupting their presentations; or by demanding that they be excluded from campus or, if they have already been invited, disinvited. Sometimes students and faculty members turn their backs on speakers whose opinions they don’t like or simply walk out and refuse to listen to those whose convictions offend their values. Of course, the right to peacefully protest, including on campuses, is sacrosanct. But before exercising that right, each of us should ask: Might it not be better to listen respectfully and try to learn from a speaker with whom I disagree? Might it better serve the cause of truth-seeking to engage the speaker in frank civil discussion?
 
Our willingness to listen to and respectfully engage those with whom we disagree (especially about matters of profound importance) contributes vitally to the maintenance of a milieu in which people feel free to speak their minds, consider unpopular positions, and explore lines of argument that may undercut established ways of thinking. Such an ethos protects us against dogmatism and groupthink, both of which are toxic to the health of academic communities and to the functioning of democracies.

Once again, by regularly appearing together George and West are actually demonstrating the same civic friendship that they are championing in this statement.

2.         The qualities we’ ll all need more of to help renew our democratic possibilities

Several of these qualities can be inferred from the statement above (such as intellectual modesty), but at Duke, George and West made several additional observations, particularly in the Q&A.

George begins with the importance of cultivating friendships with those who have different perspectives. But he also reminds us that when you do, you are leaving the conformity of those who are “most like you,” meaning that you will also need the courage of your free will to speak the truth as you see it. When you leave the comfort of your fellow travelers, it helps to have role models, including those whose courage has carried them to the point of martyrdom.  He also acknowledges that you’ll need “a few others to hold you up” when you champion what you believe and encounter the hostility that is the most likely response.

For his part, West characterizes those with the necessary courage as being “more revolutionary,” noting that you must be “willing to bear your cross” which “signifies your quest to unarm truth and unapologetically love” those who vehemently disagree with you. He continues: “to be a polished professional usually means don’t get too close to that cross” because what is most important to you is wanting to conform to those who are most like you.  But when you are willing to bear that cross and become a revolutionary, you need to know that you are also on your way to character assassination or (like Lincoln and King) literal assassination.  

Embodying the courage, loneliness and pain that George and West were describing, one of the night’s three questioners was a Christian Palestinian woman from Israel whose involvement in the peace movement there has been regularly vilified by Christians, Muslims, Jews, Israelis and Palestinians. While George and West were embodying civic friendship, she embodied the pain that goes into finding it.

3.         How to find a patch of green where civic friendship can grow

George and West give several examples, including these:
 
– When pursuing civic friendship with those who vehemently disagree with you, it is essential to decide which truths are negotiable for you and which are non-negotiable. For the Palestinian-Israeli peace activist, one non-negotiable truth is that every Palestinian baby deserves to live. When the ice is this thin, nothing is too basic to be left unsaid.
 
– Within Christianity, it is possible to harbor an intense hatred for a person’s sin while, at the same time, recognizing that his or her sins do not exhaust that sinner’s humanity. To similar effect, however odious a person’s convictions, they never rob that person of his or her essential dignity and integrity. Hate the sin but not the sinner. As West observed: we “must recognize the limitations but always hold out the possibility of transcending them” in the course of our civic conversations.
 
– To follow those possibilities even further, a person’s conviction always “lives” within a broader context or set of circumstances and is rarely either good or bad in spite of those circumstances. When you take the time to understand the context where another’s convictions arise, it is often possible to recognize how differences between you arose, agree to disagree, and step down from your mutual hostility. West illustrates this point by reference to our current divisions over “black face,” recalling that its original context suggests a kind of appropriation of black power by white slaveholders who wanted to have some of that power for themselves. In other words, “black face” was about attraction and not merely ridicule and oppression. Where there might be some “overlap” between positions within a particular context—that is, a more hopeful ground between those who are for and against a particular issue—there exists the possibility for civic conversation and even friendship.   
 
I think you’ll enjoy the Robert George-Cornel West conversation at Duke when you get to hear it. I’d also recommend that you follow their road show as it winds its way across an America that is likely to grow even more divided as another presidential election approaches.
 
The unfortunate truth is that our divisions are never confined to the realm of politics. As hostility intensifies, it infects our work and leaches into our home lives.
 
The best way to champion common ground is by acting with the courageous belief that common ground is possible, that democracy is worth renewing, and that its renewal won’t begin with somebody else.

This post is adapted from my February 17, 2019 newsletter.

Filed Under: *All Posts, Being Part of Something Bigger than Yourself, Building Your Values into Your Work, Heroes & Other Role Models Tagged With: civic conversation, civic friendship, common ground, Cornel West, courage, overcoming divisivenss, Robert George, values, work, workplace ethics

Acting On Common Values Makes Change Possible

September 9, 2018 By David Griesing Leave a Comment

We don’t act on our values at work because we feel hopeless, that the odds are staked against us, that nothing we can do will matter. But are we right about that?

Resignation affects our paying jobs—how we retreat from our priorities in our workplaces—as well as the jobs we do in our communities (say, to support a local institution) or at home (as a caregiver). Since everyone else is only concerned about himself or herself, then maybe that’s all I should be worried about too. Am I right that my occasional impulses to be more open and generous are pipedreams that can never be realized?

A survey taken by the Common Cause organization in the UK in 2016 challenges both what we think about other peoples’ selfishness (as opposed to ther generosity) and the sense of resignation that quickly follows in us. The accompanying report also discusses how we decide on what we value more and value less. It’s not just the convictions that we’re born with. Our priorities are also influenced by what we think other people and the social institutions that we identify with value. It works in the other direction too, with our values and how we demonstrate them influencing these others too. Our values take form and get applied because of a complex back-and-forth.

Think of it as a three-way conversation. But you need to participate in that conversation to have an influence, and Common Cause discovered that your influence is probably far greater than you think it is.

Common Cause UK initiated the survey because, as an organization, it was concerned about the lack of public support for social and environmental changes it was seeking. Its leaders understood that values drive change and wanted a better understanding than it had already about citizen priorities.  Those conducting the survey were surprised enough by the amount of common ground they discovered that they went on to propose ways that individuals and organizations (including businesses, non-profits and governments) can begin to overcome the current gridlock.

Here is a link to the survey report (“the Survey”), which I think you’ll find as interesting as I did.

This is the question I brought to it:  Is where you “make a living,” try to make a difference in your community and create a better life at home primarily about your “selfish values” or is your work really driven by far more generous impulses? What the Survey shows–in a one-two punch–is how acting on the so-callled “compassionate values” that play a lead role for most of us is likely to be far more consequential than you know.

We Have More Common Ground Than We Think

The Survey defines “selfish values” as wealth, social recognition, social status, prestige, control over others, authority, conformity, preserving public image, popularity, influencing others and ambition. It defines “compassionate” values as broadmindedness, a world of beauty or at peace, equality, protecting the environment, social justice, helpfulness, forgiveness, honesty and responsibility.

The Survey found that nearly 75% of participants placed greater importance on compassionate values–with Survey protocols correcting for the bias that participants were seeking to cast themselves in a better light by downplaying the importance they attach to selfish values. Even more striking was the Survey’s finding that 77% of participants believed that other people were primarily driven by selfish values. The truth is that a large majority of people (three-quarters of the population) believe that their generous motivations are more important and drive them far more often than their selfish ones.

Because people always influence one another when it comes to values, and the priorities of social institutions are shaped in a similar conversation, the Survey’s authors make several recommendations to activate our generous commitments, including these.

Since people are discouraged from declaring their priorities when they believe that most other people disagree with them, accurate information—like that provided here—will not only counter pessimism but also fuel optimism. When it comes to your values, what other people value matter almost as much as what you value “in your heart of hearts”. But it goes beyond your optimism or pessimism. In the course of our work, we can probe other people’s motivations (instead of assuming them) to strengthen our social connections, while also finding enough courage in “the strength of our numbers” to act more generously.

The consequence for you and for others is similar to when you voice your dissent in a group, a back-and-forth exchange that was discussed here a couple of months ago.  When you speak from your convictions and are clear about the changes you seek, it enables others to clarify their commitments, even when they’re different from yours, and for the group to move forward. Acting on your commitments also conveys your beliefs about how social institutions (from community groups to the federal government) should operate.

The entire time that our values are at stake, we’re watching and subtly influencing one another, so it’s important to read the social landscape around us correctly. The Survey’s writers ask:

How is a person’s perception of others’ values shaped? A person’s perceptions will be influenced by both what fellow citizens say is important to them and what he or she infers about fellow citizens from the way that they behave.

For this reason, it is very significant if people don’t always bear testimony to the values that they hold to be most important – either in what they say, or what they do…[P]eople often speak and act as though they attach particular importance to values that are actually relatively unimportant to them.

In other words, co-workers, neighbors and even family members may only seem to be acting selfishly. To discover their generous impulses, you may need to watch them more closely or simply ask what drives them in the work that they do.

Your actions and others’s actions speak louder than words to social institutions too. An institution like the US Supreme Court is always “noticing” how the American people are expressing themselves as decision-makers, voters and consumers. Because the men and women who guide these institutions are influenced by the public’s values, our acting generously impacts institutional commitments as well.

Our Commonality Goes Deeper Than Our Political Divides

In America today, it may seem like politics mirrors the debate between generous and selfish values, but it doesn’t.

While Common Cause’s objectives in conducting the Survey were to advance liberal-sounding social and environmental objectives, this Survey isn’t about the liberal versus conservative divide in either the UK or in America, even though one of the Survey’s compassionate values (“social justice”) may have political connotations here that it lacks in Britain. The polarity that the Survey identifies between compassionate and selfish values is different than the struggle between political left and political right.

The Survey’s results plumb something that goes deeper than the “political values” in those debates. That’s because “political values” both here and across the Atlantic are little more than buzzwords aimed at mobilizing one’s political base: red flags like “global warming,” “taxes,” “abortion” and “diversity” that have a high emotional charge but little if any ethical content on the political surface. When you plumb beneath the surface however, most conservatives as well as most liberals are committed to the health of the planet, to paying for our social institutions, to the quality of every person’s life, and to the inherent worth of people who are different from them. Three quarters of us!

Why not start with the values that unite us rather than the buzzwords that divide us?

Consistent with the Survey’s findings about compassionate and selfish values, most peoples’ convictions extend far deeper than will ever be apparent during bouts of political gamesmanship. Moreover, those on their “political sides” are often voting, marching and lobbying for the lesser of two evils (as in the last American election), which further obscures their true convictions. Even when the ethical imperatives that drive a block of voters are reasonably well-known, too little time and effort has gone into identifying the common ground that could unite them with those “on the other side” and break the current gridlock.

In this regard, the Survey provides a glimpse into the majority’s convictions when asked about two key values that are prime motivators for tackling our problems today. A broad-based preference for generous over selfish values provides at least some of the foundation for a collective way forward—and all of us would be seizing an opportunity by taking it. Given the Survey’s findings, the influence that your actions will have on others and on our institutions will likely be considerable and certainly more than you currently think if you’re as misguided as the Survey participants about the selfishness driving others.

Rebecca Solnit whose “Hope in the Dark” was a topic here last week provides a surprising postscript to this argument in her book. Above all, Solnit values grassroots solutions to problems over ideology-driven policies imposed from above. It’s a propensity that has made her flexible when it comes to finding common ground for her activism. In other words, she’s had to go deeper. As Solnit observes:

I’ve often wondered what alliances and affinities might arise without those badges of right and left. For example, the recent American militia movements were patriarchal, nostalgic, nationalistic, gun-happy and full of weird fantasies about the UN, but they had something in common with us: they prized the local and feared its erasure by the transnational. The guys drilling with guns might have been too weird to be our allies, but they were just the frothy foam on a big wave of alienation, suspicion and fear from people watching their livelihoods and their communities go down the tubes. What could have happened if we could have spoken directly to the people in that wave, if we could have found common ground, if we could have made our position neither right nor left but truly grassroots?  What would have happened if we had given them an alternate version of how local power was being sapped, by whom, and what they might do about it? We need them, we need a broad base, we need a style that speaks to far more people than the left has lately been able to speak to and for.

The value that could have driven this unity was the protection of livelihoods and communities (a compassionate value) rather than sacrificing them on the altar of globalism and trade (an ultimately selfish one).

Solnit’s desire for environmentalists and ranchers in the American West to make common cause is similarly astute. Again, she attacks top-down ideological convictions that will never succeed because they always seem to miss the human costs at ground level.

Environmentalists had worked with a purist paradigm of untouched versus ravaged nature.  Working with ranchers opened up a middle way [for her], one in which categories were porous, humans have a place in the landscape—in working landscapes and not just white-collar vacation landscapes—and activism isn’t necessarily oppositional.

This time, the common ground that Solnit saw was how environmentalists and ranchers both love and depend on the land, how each cherish different things about it, and how neither wants to harm it (another compassionate value) while the other side’s interest in the land is largely motivated by how much can be taken from it (a selfish one).

One day, the generous values we hold in common will help us to solve the problems that confront us. I’d argue that we should start acting on our generosity today.

Note: This post was adapted from my September 9, 2018 newsletter

Filed Under: *All Posts, Being Part of Something Bigger than Yourself, Building Your Values into Your Work, Continuous Learning Tagged With: change, common cause, Common Cause UK, common ground, compassionate values, future of work, generosity, political values, selfish values, values, values survey, work

Private Gain, Public Gain

May 11, 2018 By David Griesing Leave a Comment

Every day I’m surprised at how much the daily shock wave that used be “the news” sucks the air out of whatever room I’m in. It takes an effort to listen for what’s truly interesting and get to the bottom of it before the latest scandal or outrage gets in the way.

Somehow, I’ve managed to follow some of those threads this week.

Paying taxes last month and being involved in a neighborhood controversy has gotten me thinking about what we “hold in common” as neighbors, as citizens and even as human beings. But finding that commonality (in spite of my value judgments, obliviousness and indifference) depends on understanding who’s coming together and what’s important, both to me and to them.

Whatever the community—Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, America—understanding means getting below the surface clutter to the problems that really matter. A couple of these reality checks got through this week. The commons that we share is in very bad shape.

Mending these tears in the fabric of my communities requires a new frame of reference. Seeing myself and my work as being only about the pursuit of my private profit and personal gain fails to accommodate other ways that I need to flourish in terms of my personal development and the kinds of communities where I want to live and work. It’s locating capitalism within a broader range of human concerns.

There are some practical ways to think about expanding what we value individually and collectively. While selling our time and skills seems to be “the American way,” increasingly so is the value of “commons-based production” where the primary motivation isn’t getting paid but solving a problem that is important to you and to others. Unpaid, skill-based contributions provide alternate ways of encouraging and valuing problem-solving efforts that are undertaken in common.

Some Reality Checks

I work with kids who have lost parents or caregivers to violence, suicide and illness. It hard for them to deal with the anger of being “abandoned” and the grief they feel around the person that they’ve lost. We try to provide a space for both.

My kids are between 8 and 10 years old. Some are adopted. They come from large, often scattered families. Some have trouble coping in school. All seem grateful to be with other kids facing similar challenges. It’s almost impossible for me to imagine their lives or their futures and feel good about them.

In the week between seeing them again, the controversy around two black men being arrested at a Philadelphia Starbucks was all that anyone could talk about. There are problems in this city when it comes to bias and policing, but to me anyway, they seem less important than the day-to-day challenges facing my grieving kids. They also seem far less important than the challenges facing vulnerable black communities in neighborhoods near this Starbucks store. In terms of problems that need solving, it’s a question of priorities.

In an opinion piece this week, Robert Woodson, who is a community development leader, writes as follows:

Although many of the young protesters may authentically believe they are rallying for racial justice, they are in fact playing the role of the decoy. They are a useful diversion for those who reap the profits of the race-grievance industry. Similarly, the continuing mantra of racism serves as a shield for black officials in cities where black neighborhoods have declined and decayed.

While the media focuses on exaggerated instances of presumed racist discrimination, such as the plight of the two nonpurchasing “customers” at the coffee shop, far more grievous problems are ignored. I was born in Philadelphia, not far from where that Starbucks now stands. Back then it was a community that hundreds of low-income black families called home. My father died when I was 9, and I saw how the neighbors and the local fraternal organizations provided buffering support for my mother, who was striving to take care of her five children.

Gentrification in recent decades has brought not only Starbucks but an influx of upscale residents. As in most areas of Central South Philadelphia, low-income families have had to move out of their former neighborhoods. No voice has been raised in their defense, given that this shift was a result of housing policies in a city controlled for decades by black elected officials. But these developments have had serious consequences for low-income blacks: Most have had to move to areas without the supportive community institutions that once provided them stability and resilience. The few families left behind live among the signals of their coming displacement—like the opening of another Starbucks.

Distracted by the surface commotion, I was missing the more serious issue and I suspect that almost everyone else was too.

Another wake-up call was about Pennsylvania. After the 2016 election, many commentators talked about the forgotten voters here who voted for Trump, but this week, those same forgotten communities received a different kind of attention. Pennsylvania has more “deaths of despair” (from suicide, alcohol and drug abuse) than any other state in the U.S.

No one who lives in “a commons” is forgotten and allowed to die like this. At least some of the despair that has caused this death spiral comes from their falling outside of and not belonging to any real community.

We are as divided by indifference as we are by our politics.

A Different Frame of Reference

Because “the business of America is business,” we have come to see what we need most in America as material plenty: at least enough for ourselves and our families, and hopefully a lot more than that. It’s resulted in what many would argue is one of our central problems today: the unequal distribution of America’s material plenty. It’s the 1% against everyone else.

But as Amartya Sen, an economist and philosopher reminds us, the need for material plenty is not the only need that we have and redistributing it may not be the best way to solve our problems. Our material needs co-exist in a system of moral exchange with our “spiritual” needs, such as having the freedom to flourish as individuals. For Sen, our material needs are never favored over the non-material ones. But in determining what we should do when confronting a problem or opportunity, he simply provides a broader array of questions to ask and answer about both of these needs in the struggle to reach a “durable” solution.

For example, in his groundbreaking Poverty and Famines: An Essay on Entitlement and Deprivation (1981), Sen recasts the usual (material) critique of the problem, namely that famine is caused solely by what people lack (namely food and how to pay for and deliver it) by proposing the removal of impediments to the victims’ freedom to provide for themselves (by, or example, changing the ways that society distributes food producing resources in the first place). Almost alone among modern economists, Sen’s system makes difficult economic choices by considering both material and non-material human needs.

In a world of scarce resources, Sen’s approach allows for moral choices that are more nuanced and realistic than merely redistributing material wealth from those who have it to those who don’t.  People whose lives are broken by either gentrification or despair might also solve their own problems if society made fundamental economic choices (about matters like taxes, zoning, or the availability of medical care and job training) by acknowledging the role that these victim’s need to flourish could play in the allocation of limited resources.

An essay published this week describes Sen’s singular accomplishment by returning to his consideration of famine.

Every major work on material inequality in the 21st century owes a debt to Sen. But his own writings treat material inequality as though the moral frameworks and social relationships that mediate economic exchanges matter. Famine is the nadir of material deprivation. But it seldom occurs – Sen argues – for lack of food. To understand why a people goes hungry, look not for catastrophic crop failure; look rather for malfunctions of the moral economy that moderates competing demands upon a scarce commodity. Material inequality of the most egregious kind is the problem here. But piecemeal modifications to the machinery of production and distribution will not solve it. The relationships between different members of the economy must be put right. Only then will there be enough to go around. (the italics are mine)

If you’re interested in reading more about Sen, this article in The Guardian a few years back offers an overview of his ideas and how they contribute to the uniqueness of his approach to the future today.

The Joy of Contributing to a Common Effort

Adam Smith was not merely the poster-boy for capitalism as we know it. In addition to The Wealth of Nations (the first modern book about economics), he also wrote The Theory of Moral Sentiments (which argued that our self-interests should always be balanced by our sympathies for others).

Amartya Sen isn’t opposed to capitalism. He simply attempts to overcome some of its limitations by defining human needs more broadly where resources are limited.

Similarly, an essay this week about “commons-based production” from two scholars visiting Harvard from Estonia is not, in their words, merely “small-scale, bucolic, catering to an Arcadia, a dream-world for Leftie intellectuals.” What their argument does is provide one, already-operational template to harness Smith’s and Sen’s desire to solve economic problems in more human-centered (and less self-interested) ways.

The essay’s authors begin by noting the revolution in information and communications technology that has given rise to cooperative endeavors like freely contributing to the base of general knowledge in Wikipedia and to the open-source programming of software like Linux.  These web-based possibilities have not changed who we are as human beings, but they do allow us “to develop in ways that had previously been blocked, whether by chance or design,” according to the authors. Sen would say that they provide new avenues for human flourishing in the economic sphere because there are considerations beyond buying, selling and material gain.

The author’s write:

There are many reasons to contribute beyond or beside that of receiving monetary payment. CBPP [or Commons-based Peer Production] allows contributions based on all kinds of motivations such as the need to learn or to communicate. However, most importantly, a key incentive is the desire to create something mutually useful to those contributing. This also generally means that people contribute because they find it meaningful and useful, and they believe the resulting product worthwhile. Wikipedians and hackers primarily want to create something useful for themselves, and for other people, not for the market or for short-term profit.” (again, the italics are mine)

Rising technologies like block-chain, which can remove banks or governments as intermediaries to economic transactions will make possible additional kinds of collaboration and unlock new kinds of empowerment and wealth creation. In a February newsletter (“Innovation Driving Values”), I wrote about a platform that gives poor people the ability to publish clear title to their land via blockchain. In a newsletter last October, I talked about a social media hybrid called Steemit, where contributors are paid for their “involvement” on the site as writers, commenters, and likers instead of giving away “their involvement” in exchange for “free” use of, say, Facebook’s platform and Facebook’s sale of their information to advertisers. In other words, these technologies make it possible to consider not only new ways of cooperating but also of new ways of profiting from cooperative exchanges.

Not changing the whole world, just the parts of it that touch us.

We are all motivated by more than how much money we make, how much it can buy, and how well it insulates us from everyone else.

Our “spiritual,” non-material, cooperative and collaborative motivations provide ways to bridge some of what divides us in each commons of our public lives, from our neighborhoods, to the states where we live, and finally within America itself.

We can elevate our problem solving by acknowledging that everyone who shares a public commons with us wants the freedom to flourish. The economic choices we make as stakeholders will be more durable and satisfying when we learn how to do so.

Without the need to make money, we can leverage the technological innovation that is making it possible to collaborate with one another to create products that are useful and worthwhile because of the joy in doing so. Moreover, it’s a cooperative approach to problem solving that can be utilized in the public commons that we also share.

I still have a long way to go in thinking through these ideas. I know that they don’t come together in a perfect argument, or even a very good one. On the other hand, I fear that what divides us from one another over what is necessary and important poses the single greatest risk that we face today in each of our communities.

Deaths of despair, a persistent preoccupation with lesser problems as a way to avoid the more serious ones that are staring us and our leaders in the face: these are canaries in the coalmine where we find ourselves, and more of them keep dropping.

Thinking more broadly about what we value and bringing that perspective into new kinds of problem-solving in the commons seems the most fruitful way forward—however cobbled together my current game plan. If you’ve been thinking about what divides us today and what can be done to bring us together, I’d love to hear from you.

For our own sake, we urgently need to find more common places where what’s important to us overlaps.

Note to readers: in a different form, this content was included in my May 6, 2018 Newsletter.

Filed Under: *All Posts, Being Part of Something Bigger than Yourself Tagged With: Amartya Sen, common ground, commons, commons based production, community, cooperation, economic values, material needs, non-material needs, social division, values

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David Griesing (@worklifeward) writes from Philadelphia.

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