Thanks from a Grateful Writer

The first five responses to my notes toward a new book on democracy make me wish I’d done something like this as soon as the internet came on the scene. In fact, I've found myself so energized by the ideas shared here that I herewith break my own “promise” that I would not respond to the folks who write in! I won't be able to respond with great frequency or at great length. But I will do it when I can, because I value responses of this sort very much; I learn from them and want to encourage them.

Among other things, it occurs to me that we have a chance to model the kind of civil discourse that is so badly needed on the web. (Where do some people get the idea that we can speak to people in cyberspace as if they were not human beings, worthy of respect? Probably from the same place we got the notion that “reality” TV shows were a good idea!)

Yolande, I am very grateful for your point about Rumi's concept of “otherness,” and would be glad if you could find and post the reference you mention. I agree completely about the problem that comes when we fail to take responsibility for creating “otherness” or “separateness” by projecting our own fears on individuals and groups. That's why the concept of “life on the Mobius strip” is so important to me: the inner and the outer keep co-creating each other. When we miss that point, we are more likely to do harm than good to ourselves and the world around us.

And thank you, Vera, for the important reminder that when we are able to speak and listen to each other with honesty and mutual respect, we are more likely to find that which we can agree upon -- or at least that which we have in common. I think a lot about the fact that our real connections are found not at the level of our convictions, but at the level of the life experiences, the stories, that brought us to what we believe. For example, I've been very impressed by retreats involving people who disagree vehemently about certain issues (like abortion) where the ground rule is that we spend the first day or two not arguing about our positions on the issues, but telling the stories of the experiences that took us to those positions. Time after time, people who disagree on issues find that very similar experiences took them to different places -- and once they see that, a new and more generative kind of conversation emerges. Differences do not disappear, but there is an emergent sense that maybe we can create the kind of community that can hold our differences.

The real issue for us is not whether we will agree on all the vital issues of our day: we never will. The issue is whether we can find ways to keep touching in with that which we have in common, which lies at a much deeper level than our ideas. As I like to say, the soul has no race, nationality, gender, theology or partisan convictions. If we can meet at that level, or anywhere near it, we can keep confronting our differences in the great experiment called democracy without blowing up the lab!

Which leads me to thank Scott for his notion of “the duality of democracy.” Yes, there are very real differences between us that we cannot afford to gloss over, differences in beliefs and values and behaviors. I altogether agree that “it is the tension of competing ideas that holds together a thriving democracy,” and am trying hard to make that point as strongly as I know how as this book unfolds. My “brokenhearted” theme is about refusing to conflate our differences, which creates illusions that lead to dangerous places. The broken-open heart is a place within ourselves where we can hold those tensions in a life-giving way.

When we hold tension in that place -- and we all know people who do it -- we find our minds and hearts stretched open to new ways of thinking and acting, to “third possibilities” that lie beyond the “either-or” we started with, discoveries and inventions that keep individuals and societies alive and growing. Even more important, we sustain the civic community on which democracy depends, without which we cannot seek or advance “the common good” or hold our leaders and ourselves responsible for it. In the book, I make the point that if you want homogenized ideas, a totalitarian society is what you are looking for. But in such a society, homogenization is enforced by violence. Meanwhile, the diversity that comes with being human is driven underground, where it eventually manifests itself along a continuum that runs from profound pathologies in individuals and societies to popular and often violent revolutions. The design of American democracy, rightly understood, offers an alternative to the evil of “the final solution.”

Thanks to you, John, for urging me to “keep the sharp practitioner's edge” to my writing about this topic. I am eager to do exactly that, and to avoid the cheap relativism and same-old-same-old that you rightly caution against -- and to do so by focusing on “where the rubber meets the road.” That metaphor really works for me because for years I've talked about the importance of “putting wheels on ideas” -- which forces me to ask whether my ideas have any traction! Believe me, I will take your words to heart when I get to working on the last three chapters of the book, which are devoted to practical proposals for what we can do about “habits of the heart” in places like the family, the neighborhood, public schools, colleges and universities, the workplace, religious communities, various venues of public life and, of course, “created spaces” such as those offered by the Center for Courage & Renewal. I will indeed write about the fruits of my own exploration, as you encourage me to do, while at the same time emphasizing that I value the many people who are exploring these things from different angles, and want to encourage more folks to join the contemporary “voyage of discovery” that might open new frontiers of democracy.

Finally, thanks to you, Jerry, for your important words about the mission of public education, written from the heart of that vital enterprise. You are right: the ”win-lose“ consequences of the marketplace logic are pernicious when applied to public education. Ironically, the current economic plight of America makes it clear that they are pernicious for the marketplace itself! We need to make all children winners in public education. That’s easier said than done, I know, but it is a sad day when cruelty to animals gets more public attention than cruelty to children. We also need to take Alexis de Tocqueville seriously when it comes to teaching children about American democracy and citizenship. In a nutshell, let’s spend fewer hours on the names and dates of famous people, places, documents and events in American history, and deal with what all of that means in terms of ”habits of the heart.“

Thanks again to all of you -- and to those who may follow on this blog -- for offering up these important thoughts in ways that will, I am sure, help shape the book as I write it over the next fifteen months. Now, to make sure that I can keep that promise, I better get back to the writing!