It is difficult to discover appropriate “first principles” of social conduct, and we often do a very poor job of sorting out “first principles” from imagined or perceived needs of a secondary order. Over the past half century, for example, we have witnessed a headlong rush to give “the economy” priority over “society.” Protecting and improving “the economy” is the current mythical “first principle” in North America. Although the idea of “the economy” is somewhat abstract, “the economy” never seems to encompass the real local economic needs of ordinary people, and it as often does not even mean the needs of a national economy, but rather some fictive, imagined capitalist dream world and/or the remote and heartless idea of a world economy. No day passes without someone making the absurd declaration that we humans need to serve the gods of economic growth first (usually meaning undisturbed, unalloyed market-capitalism), and the health and other social needs of human beings and societies need to be served second, if at all. Rather than have recognized this no-holds-barred, capitalist ideology for what it is -- a Hobbesian “war of all against all,” and a survivalist, social Darwinism “red in tooth and claw” mentality -- we have allowed “the economy” to assume the vestments of an unimpeachable “first principle” not unlike the “first principles” established by Thomas Aquinas in relationship to Christian theology in the High Middle Ages.
So, now, when everyone in the U. S. has come to call for a new “civility” in American politics and life, we are confronted again with the question: should “civility” be recognized as a first principle for human conduct and social organization, or, is the “first principle” concept of civility first analogous to the idea of “the economy” outlined above. Is “civility” really a second order condition that flows from some first order idea, just as a good economy should be a second order consequence of a first order emphasis on good societies? Of course, I believe “civility” as the consequence of the success of a more important “first principle” – namely, “humility.” “Civility” is the happy result of widespread “humility.” (And, one could argue, as I have in other blogs, that humility itself is a second order quality derived from empathy, but I will leave that discussion for another time).
To be humble is often defined as to be “without pride,” and for this reason humility has failed as it runs up against has the boastful, self-confident, cocksure, mythology of laissez-faire or free market thinking and behavior. This is not to say that people can be perfectly free of personal “pride.” And, if we believe the New Testament to be at least fundamentally accurate as an historical account (as I think we can), then even Jesus sometimes acted in a prideful manner. The implicit assumption in achieving practical humility is that we try to restrain an excess of pride in ourselves.
A more fundamental, rational, and useful way to understand humility as a first principle -- from which civility is a derived consequence -- is to consider humility as the conscious ability to understand that we are not, individually, the measure of all things. Whatever our talents and abilities, other persons have correspondent talents and abilities, and no matter how intellectually or socially accomplished we may be, someone else, indeed, many other people, are more intellectually or socially accomplished than we are. No matter how kind and generous we may be, there are others who are more kind and generous; no matter how smart we may be, there are others smarter. And so on and on.
It is always a surprise to me (although it should not be) when I read obituaries, and discover the uniqueness and richness of almost every human life described in those remembrances. It is even more surprising when we are told about the rich and meaningful lives of persons who are the victims of mass killings (as in the recent Tucson case in which six people died in the aftermath of an assassin’s attempt to kill Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords). One of these was a young girl whom one might first guess was just another mall pedestrian but who, as it turned out, was a inquiring young person eager to learn more about democratic politics work. Who would have considered this? Or, who would have guessed that some people, in the midst of the this melee, including a federal judge who was killed, would have heroically intervened to try to stop the killer. The point is not entirely the heroism that people display but the breadth and depth of their lives that emerges from their biographies. To know another person at all, is to recognize the integrity of that person.
We need not feel abject inferiority in the face of the humbling truth that almost every other person we encounter contributes something important to society, and has some quality from which we can learn important individual lessons. In fact, rather than retreat into some kind of Calvinist despair about our unworthiness in the face of this truism, we should consciously and rationally begin to approach every other human being with the understanding that they have some quality or virtue which we undoubtedly wish we possessed, or possessed in a larger measure. Every person we encounter need not prove to us beyond a reasonable doubt that they are virtuous in some specific way. It is simply sensible for us to assume that they are.
If we move from accepting the necessity of humility to its operational consequences, we arrive at “civility.” How could we treat any other person with something less than dignity, if we accept the rational argument for humility. Because we are currently living in Mexico, we have come to understand the importance of saying “Buenos Dias” when meeting someone on the street. Mexicans, more than many people on this earth, know the necessity of humility. Acknowledging others on the street, or in passing, used to be a standard element of “civility” but it is interesting that that acknowledgement has now – after the rise of an “every-man-for-himself” market-place ideology – become optional. (Yes, people have baldly told me that whether you greet someone with a “hello” or “how are you” is entirely optional, even with people you already know).
Small courtesies like taking one’s turn in line or giving someone space to pass you on the sidewalk have fallen into similar disuse, as we fail to acknowledge that others even exist, let alone possess those personal qualities that are similar, equal, or superior to our own. So, if other persons do not matter, if we are not humble in the presence of others, why should we listen to the ideas or opinions of others? Why should we hope for anything other than the elimination of our political opponents? No one used to use the term “bully pulpit,” but it is now used routinely in regard to the advantage that the President of the U. S. possesses in being heard. But the “bully pulpit,” so to speak, is not held in monopoly by the President; legions of others – especially radio hate mongers like Rush Limbaugh – conduct grandiose, uninterrupted monologues in which the worth of other opinions is completely ignored or disdained. Only humility, which is something individuals can come to understand rationally and apply willingly, will provide an antidote to the uncivil behaviors that surround us today.
On the other hand, it is not easy to assume that some transformation in American manners and “civility” will soon take place. I have read some journalists who argue that when Joe Welch, the attorney for the U. S. Army in the Army-McCarthy hearings of the early 1950s, finally got thoroughly disgusted with Senator Joe McCarthy’s behavior and resignedly asked, “Senator McCarthy, have you no decency?,” that American “civility” suddenly returned to American life. It did not. The incivility of American life continued, and although it was sometimes pushed underground for a time, incivility has largely remained a chief feature of American political life.
In fact, incivilities are more prominent in American history than almost any other element. To name only a few “uncivil” cases in historic American political culture – cases having to do with the much vaunted “founding fathers” and their generation -- look at the Matthew Lyon – Roger Griswold assault in Congress in the 1790s, or the vituperative attacks on both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson in the 1790s and early 1800s, or the famous Alexander Hamilton-Aaron Burr duel, in which Hamilton was killed by one of the most “promising” political figures of the early 19th century. An early American historian, Joanne Freeman, who has written brilliantly on “honor” in early American political life in an earlier book, recently published a revealing article on political violence and the bearing of weapons in Congress from the 1820s through the 1860s. “Incivility” in the form of violence, in Congress, was more pronounced in some periods of American History than it was on the nation’s streets. Freeman is apparently writing a new book on American political violence which will reveal how central “violence” and “incivility” have been in American political life.
In regard to more contemporary times, Barbara Ehrenreich’s recent book, Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America, presents another angle on America’s no-humility, no-civility culture. While Ehrenreich attacks the false notion that being positive and cheery in one’s outlook and emotions results in greater happiness, health, and prosperity, and while she lambastes the many self-help speakers, organizations, and gurus, and their methods of operation, the most important message to be derived from her well-researched book is that American history from its beginnings has focused on how individual Americans are solely responsible for their own well-being (whether that well-being is spiritual or economic or physical or mental). In my work as an American historian, I have always come to the conclusion that the American perception is that every individual should pursue and possess three things: autonomy (freedom to construct one’s own life), authority (freedom from others governing one’s life), and agency (the innate capacity to make whatever you want of yourself). Ehrenreich convincingly details the course of what she calls “bright-sided” positivism from Calvinist beginnings to R. W. Emerson and Mary Baker Eddy to Norman Vincent Peale to almost every management or business school to the American Psychology Association to modern therapists, and so on. The unifying message throughout is that everyone should be positive (in fact, must be positive and cheery), that we are in control of making ourselves better through work, and that failure only happens when we do not consistently act in a positive manner (even if such an attitude is entirely inappropriate in certain circumstances). No wonder the American rich (and even not so rich) today argue that they should keep whatever wealth they have “earned” (when, in fact, they have truly earned very little of the wealth they possess. Fortuitous circumstances of birth and place of residence and education, inheritance, infrastructure, subsidies, a nation not leveled by war in the 1940s, and even chance, are far more important than the usually puny “valued added” work of the individual claiming that “they” earned their wealth).
And, where does “humility” fit into my “autonomy, authority, agency” triad, or Ehrenreich’s review of a “self-help culture” that has always pervaded American history and, more importantly, bamboozled gullible Americans? It does not. It cannot. Yet, Americans may yet have “humility” thrust upon them, and have “civility” follow as a consequence. The poor have always discovered the reality and necessity for humility. Many of the poor have also come to realize the promise that humility possesses for some kind of self justification and hope. The way the U. S. is going, there will be many more poor citizens in their future, and they will learn, through experience, all too well the limits of “rugged individualism” or “pulling oneself up by one’s bootstraps” or “naming and claiming wealth” or “owning one’s responsibility for one’s self.” Humility should be embraced as a reasonable necessary condition to civility but future circumstances may well decide the fate of humility and civility for America.
