"Our life together can be better." That's the opening sentence of an important new book by Jim Wallis called On God's Side: What Religion Forgets and Politics Hasn't Learned About Serving the Common Good. Wallis, in addition to being CEO of the D.C.-based Christian ministry Sojourners,
is one of our most compelling thinkers and writers -- not just on
religion and spirituality but on American public life as well. He's
also, I'm happy to say, a longtime and frequent contributor to HuffPost.
And for those of you in the New York area, on Friday I'll be taking
part in a conversation with him, moderated by our religion editor Paul
Raushenbush, at NYU's Brennan Center for Justice from 7:00 - 8:30 p.m.
Wallis wrote On God's Side while taking a three-month
sabbatical last year, in the midst of the 2012 election -- a break that
allowed him to get a broader perspective on what was going on in
American public life. "Sitting back and watching the deluge of insults
and accusations that feeds our political system, I witnessed the worst
of us as a nation," he wrote last week on HuffPost. "And I came to the conclusion that it's time to reframe our priorities."
According to Wallis, we have traded "the idea of public servants for
the false idols of power and privilege." And "we have lost something as a
nation when we can no longer look at one another as people, as
Americans."
So he wrote the book to get at "the root of what I believe is the
answer to our current state of unrest." And this is what he concluded:
It is not about right and left -- or merely about partisan
politics -- but rather about the quality of our life together. It's
about moving beyond the political ideologies that have both polarized
and paralyzed us, by regaining a moral compass for both our public and
personal lives -- by reclaiming an ancient yet urgently timely idea: the
common good.
The book draws inspiration from Abraham Lincoln's famous line:
"[M]y concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is
to be on God's side..." Wallis calls this "probably the most important
thing about religion ever said by an American president." For Wallis,
the key to being on God's side is a focus on the common good. "That old
but always new ethic simply says we must care for more than just
ourselves, or just our own group," he writes. "We must care for our
neighbor as well, and for the health of the life we share with one
another. It echoes a very basic tenet of Christian and other faiths --
love your neighbor as yourself -- still the most transformational ethic
in history."
But, as Wallis saw vividly during his sabbatical, that doesn't seem
to be the direction things are currently headed in our country. Instead
of strengthening our commitment to equality, social justice, and our
sense of unity as a nation, our public and political discourse is
breaking us apart.
The question is, where is change going to come from? Much of Wallis'
book focuses on the fact that it's unlikely to come from Washington.
"There is a war going on today in our nation's political discourse," he writes.
We've
lost our civility, the ability to have public discussion that isn't
harsh or dismissive but respectful and genuinely open to dialogue and
disagreement. We've also lost our ability to really listen to one
another. We've lost our capacity for political compromise, for actually
finding solutions instead of just continually blaming each other for
problems.
The problem is that it's hard to see Washington changing any time
soon, or, at least, it's hard to see change coming from inside
Washington. Our political life right now seems stagnant, stalemated --
like the trench-warfare battle lines of World War I. Small battles and
skirmishes are won or lost -- and are covered with breathless import by
the media -- but the scope of what passes for solutions grows ever
smaller.
I'm definitely not suggesting we should give up on politics, or let
our leaders off the hook, or disengage in any way -- and neither is
Wallis. But right now the debate in Washington isn't just shrinking bit
by bit, it's disappearing faster than the polar ice cap. Otto von
Bismarck famously said, "Politics is the art of the possible" -- but in our politics, achieving the possible is seen not as art but as capitulation.
So when I interview Jim on Friday, I want to ask him about avenues
for pursuing the common good outside of Washington. Just as the
incentives in politics have veered toward fundraising, the incentives in
business have come to be dominated by quarterly earnings and short-term
growth. But even though both the public and private sectors are off
course, it's more likely that the private sector -- which includes not
just businesses but non-profits and individuals committed to making a
difference -- will be able to course-correct more rapidly.
So what would it mean to pursue the common good in the business
world? In 1890, Alfred Marshall, one of the founders of modern
capitalism, coined the term "economic chivalry," and wrote that the
"desire of men for approval of their own conscience and for the esteem
of others is an economic force of the first order of importance." That's
still as true today as it was then. But the question is, what is it
that gives a person "the esteem of others" and thus the "approval of
their own conscience?" We can't change our general need for the approval
of others and ourselves, but what we approve of -- what we think of as
success -- can change. In a word: incentives. If our collective
definition of success is simply greater quarterly earnings at all costs,
then that's the route to approval that people will pursue. But how can
we widen the definition of success to include the notion of the common
good?
One of the costs of that short-term pursuit of success defined simply
as money and power is often our health and well-being. Right now,
stress costs American businesses $300 billion
a year. But thankfully more and more companies are realizing that not
only are healthy profits and healthy employees not exclusive, they go
hand in hand. According to the iOpener Institute,
increasing happiness in the workplace can reduce the cost of sick leave
by 19 percent and the cost of employee turnover by 46 percent, and
increase productivity by 12 percent. This is why around one-quarter of all large U.S. businesses currently offer some sort of stress reduction program.
One way to encourage the other three-quarters would be to provide
stronger incentives. For instance, during earnings calls, the
all-important Wall Street analysts whom CEOs and directors are always
trying to impress with ever bigger quarterly profits could ask about
what the CEO is doing to ensure the health and well-being of his or her
employees. It would give the analysts a better idea of the company's
long-term financial health, as well.
One way to shift toward that longer-term perspective is by
disconnecting from the noise and distraction of our ever-wired world.
I'm interested in hearing Jim's perspective on the role of technology in
the fraying of the common good.
In On God's Side, he writes: "...let's be honest, cellphones
have become the 'significant other' for lots of people today. Many
spend more time with them each day -- thumbing away on the keyboards or
having long conversations from anywhere and everywhere -- than with any
person in their lives."
So how do we rebuild the common good when we're disconnected to those
closest to us, and, very often, even from ourselves? How do we take
advantage of all the many obvious benefits of technology and social
media while minimizing the increasingly obvious costs? While encouraging
meaningful debate in Washington is certainly a great thing, the answers
to these questions are also vital to the question of whether we can
rebuild the common good.
If you're in New York on Friday, I hope you'll join us for the discussion. RSVP Here. If you're not, we'll post highlights from our conversation here on HuffPost.
*********************************************************************
Over the next week, tens of millions of people will do something so
familiar it's easy to forget how radical it is: They will commemorate
the worst moments of their past. For Jews, the occasion is Passover, in
which they relive their four centuries of slavery in Egypt. For
Christians, the occasion is Easter, in which they painstakingly mark the
trial and crucifixion of Jesus.
Sure, both stories come around to happier endings. The Bible says the
Israelites ultimately escape slavery, and Jesus is ultimately
resurrected. But the larger question is still worth considering: What
rightful people put their most ignoble days at the heart of their
identity?
The answer: a people that wants to survive.
I spent the last few years trying to figure out the secret sauce that
keeps families strong, effective and resilient. I talked to
cutting-edge scholars, innovative brain researchers, leaders of
business, sports and religion, as well as countless everyday moms and
dads, who, like me, were struggling so mightily to get through every day
we had no time to ask the larger question of how to teach our children
values. In effect I was trying to find out: What do happy families do
right, and what can I learn from them to make my family happier?
The good news is there is lots of knowledge these days to answer that question. I lay out what I found in "The Secrets of Happy Families,"
a playbook for contemporary families, covering everything from
rethinking mornings to revamping dinner to rejuvenating date night. But
of all the counterintuitive ideas I encountered, one, above all,
changed my view of parenting -- and of religion.
The most successful families embrace and elevate their family
history, particularly their failures, setbacks and other missteps. In
2001, two researchers at Emory, Marshall Duke and Robyn Fivush,
gave 400 children a simple test about their family's past. Do you know
where your grandparents were born? Do you know where your parents went
to high school?
Do you know an aunt or other relative who had an
illness they overcame. They also gave them a battery of other
psychological tests.
The children who knew more about their family's history had higher
self-esteem, a stronger sense that they controlled their lives, and a
deeper belief that their family functioned well. The "Do You Know?"
scale, as the researchers dubbed it, turned out to be the best single
predictor of children's emotional health and happiness.
"We were blown away," Dr. Duke told me.
Two months later came Sept. 11. Though the families lived far away,
all the children had experienced the same anguish in the same way. The
researchers reassessed the children. "Once again," Dr. Duke said, "the
ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient,
meaning they could moderate the effects of stress."
Why does being aware of your family's history help children in times of stress?
"The answers have to do with a child's sense of being part of a
larger family," Dr. Duke said. Psychologists have found that every
family has a unifying narrative, and they tend to take one of three
shapes. First, the ascending narrative: We had nothing; we worked hard; now we have a lot. Second, the descending narrative: We had a lot; then there was a recession, a war, a storm; we lost it all. Third, an oscillating narrative: We
worked hard; we achieved some success; but then your grandfather lost
his job; we rallied as a family and came back; but then your aunt
developed a drinking problem.
Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have
what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong "intergenerational self." They know
they belong to something bigger than themselves.
And that's where religion comes in. One of the core ideas of the
Bible is that meaning can be found in history. The sheer act of telling
and retelling stories helps us to understand God's role in the world as
well as our own position in a long line of ancestors who have wrestled
with similar issues to the ones we wrestle with every day. So when Jews
relive the
Passover seder as their ancestors have done for thousands of
years or Christians recreate the final steps of Jesus as their
forebears have done for centuries, we are directly extending a line from
our children to their past.
And the fact that those traditions include moments of hardship makes
them even more memorable. As Dr. Duke has found, the best single thing
you can do for your children is create, refine and retell the story of
your family's positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the
difficult ones. That will give your children confidence that when they
encounter hurdles, they can push through as well. The fact that
Passover and Easter elevate suffering to a core part of the story helps
those celebrating to draw closer to one another and to better prepare
themselves for their own ups and downs.
The bottom line: If you want a happier family, bring those skeletons
out of the closet. Celebrate your family's bleakest moments and how
your relatives overcame them. In doing so, you will encounter darkness,
but you'll give your children the confidence that they, too, shall
overcome.
