Morris Janowitz, 20th century sociologist, brought forth a study in the 1980's that showed a decisive trend away from civic consciousness. For example, young American adults, according to the survey, "expect to be tried before a jury of their peers but are reluctant to serve on one."
This observation was piggy-backed several years later in a 1989 study by the organization People For The American Way. It reads:
Young people have learned only half of America's story. . . Although they clearly appreciate the democratic freedoms that, in their view, make theirs the "best country in the world to live in," they fail to perceive a need to reciprocate by exercising the duties and responsibilities of good citizenship.
Only 12 percent of the respondents felt that voting was part of what makes a good citizen.
These respondents would be in their 40's at this time, perhaps more keyed in to society because of the added perspective of parenting or increased experiences with the larger community. But this does reveal how the emphasis for civic consciousness was and still is in many ways diminished by our emphasis on individual rights over and above civic responsibility.
I remember an event in the 1980's that helped me understand the need for civic responsibility for the health of society and each individual. In 1982, seven people in the Chicago area, who were unrelated, died after taking Extra Strength Tylenol laced with cyanide. The perpetrator who had randomly laced the medicine in several stores was never found. The fall-out of this event can be felt today, every time you try and open an over-the-counter medicine bottle and slog through the layers of plastic, or maneuver through child-proof bottles, you are experiencing the effect of this betrayal of communal trust. I remember feeling the shudder, not only in my own loss of innocence, but in the shock wave throughout society, that someone could, in effect, poison the town well. Our common source of well-being was far more fragile and needed far more vigilance than I had considered. I came to know more deeply that there is madness enough to willfully destroy the fabric of community for a perceived individual gain.
Soon after the Tylenol scare came the Halloween candy scare, where people, statistically very few, were putting razors in apples and needles or straight pins in candy bars. These were considered copy-cat gestures, but ones that have parents, ever since, sorting through candy, not only for nutrition's sake but for safety's sake. Trick or treating lost a bit of its neighborly charm as meeting strangers became far more an issue of distrust than a gesture of community.
We know this now in many ways. That tiny shudder in the Tylenol scare has become a way of relating. With the world wide web, we now have countless infestations of viruses and worms in our cyberspace communities. There are those who take pride in the power of destroying or overpowering communication networks. And terrorism has increased throughout the world, sending the ripple effect of broken trust, self-serving destruction and isolationism. Communities are far more closed and far less welcoming. Differences compel resistance before curiosity.
As a young adult, I was unnerved by the Tylenol scare because of the willingness to destroy trust in society in that way. In how I was raised, that initiative was beyond the pale. Nowadays it's just a fact that people steel themselves away from violation, that we rarely assume an agreement toward the common good. Doors must be locked, hand bags must be clutched, code words must be developed, security must be bolstered. At least that's what we've agreed upon.
Another thing began to happen in the 1980's. I noticed it one time when I lived in Boston and was curious about the Bible, which I had never really read. This was way before I decided to be a minister. I walked up to a church to see if I could look at a Bible and the church was locked. Again, that shock, that shudder. Churches had to be locked. What is happening to society, I remember thinking, when a person can't enter a church because of the possible violations to a space dedicated to communal well being.
A favorite line of mine from Alice Walker's Gospel According to Shug:
HELPED are those who receive only to give; always in their house will be the circular energy of generosity; and in their hearts a beginning of a new age on Earth: when no keys will be needed to unlock the heart and no locks will be needed on the doors.
The circle of generosity that is spoken about here, is what Beverly Wildung Harrison describes as "self-respecting and other regarding." This is the kind of sensibility that is needed for civic consciousness, an understanding that we are all in this together, that we influence our lives by our actions and that we must take care of ourselves in order to participate fully in a shared life.
A friend, in handing in his absentee vote the other day, teared up, as he does every time he gets to vote in this country. Not because he was ever denied the vote, nor had ancestors that were denied the vote. He's a Euro-American from way back. His tears express his awe and gratitude for participating in an endeavor that calls for his opinion and his participation. This is a shared endeavor that honors the right to have a voice and the responsibility to claim it. His tears behold the beauty of civic consciousness.
According to an Associated Press poll on Friday, October 31st, 14% of eligible voters are still undecided. The probability is that they will remain undecided until they walk into the polls or as they sit out the election. Four days before a historical election that has been in the national dialogue for two years, one in seven people haven't made up their mind or might switch their vote.
Pundits and newscasters have spent countless hours trying to analyze the nature of these "un-deciders." Some could be unsure because of the historical nature, that, indeed, the choices of the two major parties are very different than any other choices in their past. There are a few, of course, that just plain don't pay attention or are chronic procrastinators, and there are others that have lost any sense of trust in the system at all. Some interesting aspects are emerging documented by researchers, however, that help us see some of the problem of having to make a decision.
"I'm split right down the middle," remarked one middle-ager. "Each one has things that are good for me and things that are bad for me. And people like me." And there are others still stinging from their candidate's loss in the primary, even though the candidat's have urged a necessary change in support for the sake of their party.
In these last examples I see the problem of self centrism over-riding a sense of the common good. When one has a sense of civic consciousness, one has to forego, at times, getting one's own way. And, further, if people do not participate in the process thatdepends on such participation, they are violating the common trust.
Participating in democracy is not easy. You have to claim your voice if you want to be a part of the process. And further, if you are not a part of the decision making process, then you have no ownership in the outcome. Cynically assuming that it doesn't make a difference is a choice not to support the democratic process.
Cynicism counteracts democratic endeavors in other ways as well. It has eroded our regard for truth. We have, collectively, trumped our love of truth by our desire to win. We have, as a people, overwhelmed our civic consciousness with self-importance. With the corroding assumption that ends justifies the means, we give ourselves permission to forego fairness, ignore reality and control information to get results. It's called "spikn" and it is rampant in all kinds of political discourse.
This is different than having points of view—different than claiming one's own perspective. Of course each person comes to an experience with different sensibilities or priorities. But when we present a reality, knowing that it manipulates the truth, then we damage trust and our ability to come to a sense of the common good.
Recently, we had a session of UU Families in Our Busy World. We shared our perspectives on civic consciousness and how we might model effective citizenry for our children. We talked about respect and responsibility, tolerance of difference and willingness to dwell in the discomfort of new situations and new perspectives. We talked about trust and honesty and courage. And we realized, together, that juggling one's own concerns with an eye toward the common good took faith in the endeavor and a lot of practice.
The framers of the Constitution, while lifting up individual rights and responsibilities and forging a system of government that emphasizes freedom of the individual, had as their vision our ability to form a more perfect union and work together to promote the general welfare. This is much like the interweaving of our first and seventh principles in Unitarian Universalism, the inherent worth and dignity of every person interacting within the interdependent web of all existence. In the midst of the principles, number four, is the free and responsible search for truth and meaning.
Every right—every form of the freedom to be—has within it responsibility. We cannot do whatever we want to do without creating consequences. It is the acceptance of the consequences, the full embrace of how we affect our world, that informs civic consciousness. If we have faith in the endeavor, then we must fully participate, for we are a strand of the web of interaction. We weaken the strength of what upholds us if we do not participate.
As Thomas Paine wrote years ago, and shared by a resident theologian today, "those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must ... undergo the fatigues of supporting it."
The training ground for this kind of understanding begins, in fact, in one's home. How we promote and celebrate our interdependence in the home can then inform the way we support our communities, which then, in turn, supports society. We are constantly reminded, indeed trained, in the consequences of choices within our own bodies, our intricate organisms, that clue us into stewardship of our own health. A common metaphor to encourage the health of a community is the metaphor of the body. We continue the training in our church communities, as we share in each other's lives and see the strength and joy therein.
As a result of the findings in the 1980's, which revealed an alarming lack of civic consciousness amongst the next generation of leaders, efforts began to help people practice communal interaction. Learning service initiatives began to come into place and still thrive today. The phrase "enlightened self interest" was introduced to bring people into the consciousness that what is good for one's community is good for one's self, that, indeed, interdependence is the way of things.
And so, we have a national election to participate in this Tuesday. We have a vote to offer, a voice to throw into the mix of things. The good news is that voter turnout may be as higher than it has been in decades—since 1960.
And if the results are not what we want them to be, our voice is still a part of it all. Practice does not necessarily make perfect, a colleague once pointed out, practice makes habitual. So vote. Get in the practice of civic responsibility. Let yourself participate with your neighbors in the groundwork of democracy. The health of this nation depends on it.
So may it be. Amen.
Copyright © 2008 Lisa Ward. All Rights Reserved.