Can't We All Just (Not) Get Along?

This blog post is showing up in my inbox and on my FB feed now. It's from Shane Windmeyer, the leader of Campus Pride, an LGBT advocacy group, on his burgeoning relationship with Chick-fil-A's president and COO, Dan Cathy. One of my FB friends wrote that she was "ambivalent" to the piece, which I think accurately describes my feelings as well. One the one hand, I applaud two human beings authentically reaching out to each other in an attempt at understanding and respect. On the other hand, I find it problematic when such engagement is misconstrued as ends instead of as means. The general narrative seems to be that people are all essentially well-meaning, our differences are often intractable, so the best we can do is to hold hands and agree to disagree. The problem is that only one side's views infringe on the rights and personhood of the others'. The underlying assumption is that there are two perspectives, that both are legitimate and valid, and compromise is sufficient. Granted, it is great that Chick-fil-A's "charitable" arm is no longer giving to anti-gay causes, but there are still those pesky cultural consequences spread under the guise of religious belief.

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UPDATE (1/30/2013): Turns out the rumors of an end to the funding of anti-gay causes were greatly exaggerated.

The Story of England Is Not the Story of America

I was recently watching the Story of England, a documentary on PBS. It's quite good and worth the watch, but one thing that the host, historian Michael Wood, mentioned caught my attention. He talked repeatedly not just of the "rights" of English citizens but also their "duties." In the United States with our libertarian leanings, we are obsessed with our rights as individuals and often enumerate them: religion, speech, press, assembly, petition, gun-ownership, etc.; however, we almost never worry ourselves over our duties as part of a collective. No wonder one nation has single-payer, universal healthcare and the other has something less-than.

Shut Up and Listen to the Data!

My last post was about the problems inherent to claims-making in public discourse. Further reflection has led me to a conclusion about public discourse itself. Do we really need to have a dialogue around claims that are verifiable? If a claim is empirically testable, what is there to discuss? All that is needed is the exposition of evidence. Discourse, therefore, only happens in two circumstances: when contradictory untestable claims are made or when discussants are unaware of falsifying evidence. (A third, and important, case could be made for those instances when there is evidence for contradictory claims, but in those cases, further evidence should be able to ultimately determine which claim is actually valid.)

I think there are three social facts that might be expanding the problematic nature of public discourse:

1. Democracy tends to make all opinions seem equally valid when, in fact, they are not.
2. The right to free speech allows us all to say whatever we want, but that doesn't mean that everything we all say is correct.
3. The long term increase in individualism disconnects us from others and from groups that might force us to entertain competing claims.

In no way am I making an argument against democracy or free speech. We do, however, need to be vigilant about the unintended consequences of these factors. Overall, I know that I am being rather simplistic, but the point is that we're having unproductive discussions in unproductive ways.

Epistemology and Public Discourse

As I have mentioned in the blog recently, I am teaching a Critical Thinking course for the first time this semester. The course is new to our college. It fits a role in the state-mandated core that highlights the distinctiveness of each institution within the state system. As the designated liberal arts college of the system, a course in critical thinking is quite appropriate, I believe. The course is offered by many departments/disciplines. The sociology offering takes a social problems format. As often happens, teaching this new course is really challenging me to reevaluate my knowledge and perspective. Usually, this happens within the confines of sociology proper, but given the broader nature of a critical thinking course, I find that I am reifying some unrecognized assumptions that I had brought to both my job and my worldview. In particular, I am coming to appreciate a more explicit epistemology.

Claims-making happens all around us. We encounter claims from political candidates, elected officials, journalists, pundits, bloggers, religious elites, teachers, parents, friends, etc. The ultimate question is "How do they know?" Anyone can posit a claim, and anyone with half a working brain can make those claims internally consistent. To add epistemological rigor, however, the claims must be empirically verifiable. After all, not every logical or reasonable claim is actually true. We have to look to see if they are correct. Luckily, we have a lot of existing data with which to test ideas.

Often, though, claims are made on grounds that are not verifiable. By my estimation, these kinds of claims take three forms. First, claims made on religious grounds are by definition non-empirical and thus lie outside of the realm of testing. A good example would be that "life begins at conception." Since this has a religious base (even though no religious text explicitly states such a thing), it is not refutable. "Life" has ironically been impossible for biologists to clearly define. An exception to these religious claims is when they cross over into the realm of empiricism. Creationism/anti-evolution and climate-change denial claims would be good examples.We can refute these with overwhelming evidence. Second, claims made on emotional grounds are not testable. How can I argue against the fact that you are angry or happy or disgusted? Third, claims made by intuition or "gut feeling" are impossible to address. These tend to be obvious indicators of weakness for a given issue.

Increasingly, claims-makers are getting savvy, avoiding verifiable claims and relying almost solely on one of the three types of claims listed above--especially if the claims are inconveniently falsified by empirical evidence. This is problematic as such claims are game stoppers. If we are having a public discourse about things that matter, like access to abortion or how we educate our children, we need to actually have a discussion, and this cannot happen if we make statements to which others can literally not respond.

Random Thought on American Exceptionalism

"We're number one!" It occurred to me that the debacle of colonialism humbled the Western world powers in a way that America didn't experience, having never become a colonial power proper. What kind of future historical event would it take for us to lose some of our hubris?

The Symbolic Importance of Musical Chairs

For the State of the Union Address this year, Republicans and Democrats will be co-mingling, sitting among each other instead of divided literally and figuratively by the aisle as has been the longstanding tradition. Many--mostly Republicans--have been dismissing and deriding the effort as either political theatre or, worse, political ploy. So, here is my sociological take. Will this game of musical chairs have any direct effect on the rhetoric of the Congress? It's unlikely. Republicans will still give ovations to tax-cutting, and Democrats will still rise to healthcare. But, importantly, it will look radically different. Instead of seeing a monolithic block of support from one half of the floor and then monolithic opposition from the other half, observers will see mixed support and opposition throughout the hall, mirroring the lived experiences of us normal Americans. After all, we don't partition ourselves with conservatives living on the north side of Main St. and progressives on the south; we are neighbors with both folks we agree with and disagree with. It would do us good to remember this. Symbolism matters.

And, maybe, just maybe, some of the congresspersons will be moved by this symbolism as well. Wouldn't that be nice?

Amendment I Part 2? Academic Freedom

I am terrified that something like this could happen to my colleague in this day and age in the United States, simply terrified. Frances Fox Piven, a renowned scholar and former president of the American Sociological Association, has received death threats after being unceasingly hounded by conservative commentators, including the fear-mongering Glenn Beck. The framers of our Constitution had the foresight to make freedom-of-the-press a dogmatic tenet of our democracy. In effect, journalists have served as an independent watchdog of our governmental institutions. This hasn't come without its own problems, but it has proven indispensable.

One thing that the framers couldn't have foreseen was the need for academic freedom as well. Without scientific and humanistic inquiry, where would we be? Unfettering our thinkers and protecting them from direct oversight has made our nation, and our world, a better place through intellectual and technological advances. It is this tacit value that people like Beck continually undermine in their ignorant and irrational critique of academics like Piven who have dedicated their lives to improving the lives of others.

A Culture of Civil Cynicism

Krugman would have us believe that we have taken a wrong turn, making a bad decision collectively, to limit government in a time when we should in fact be asking our government to do more, not less.

It's the logical consequence of three decades of antigovernment rhetoric, rhetoric that has convinced many voters that a dollar collected in taxes is always a dollar wasted, that the public sector can’t do anything right.

I would challenge the origin of these ideas. What so many ignore is that the anti-government sentiment that seems to have come to a head in the likes of the Tea Party is actually a deeply ingrained part of the American culture. It is more than "rhetoric." It is hardwired into our national identity. In some very overt ways, the founding fathers intentionally hamstringed our government believing as Thoreau so neatly summarized, "That government is best which governs least."

In historical perspective, it is little wonder why early Americans felt this way. The Independence movement was an Enlightenment, bourgeois reaction against the perception of governmental intrusion (primarily via taxes). That first attempt at self-governance, the Articles of Confederation, was true to these principles. It was also a colossal failure, and likeminded proposals for editing the scope of government today would certainly share that fate.

Things are a lot different now in the early 21st century than the late 18th. We have gone from early industrialization to full industrialization to post-industrial service economy (i.e. finance). Our economy went from largely regional to global very quickly. Localized governance--at least as popularly conceived--is wholly inappropriate to addressing these intricately interconnected issues.

As an academic, I will be among the first to agree that cynicism and a critical approach are essential. However, when such thinking becomes so institutionalized that it becomes a kneejerk reaction writ large, it becomes counterproductive. In a representative democracy, it is the duty of the people to be vigilant. That vigilance needs to be accompanied by a reasonable awareness of the contextual realities.