Budget Compromise: Getting a Half-Loaf or Less

“Are there issues where compromise is justified, but others where it is not?” That is a question that my friend Tom Tiahrt asked me in response to my most recent musing (Forfeiting Today for a Political Tomorrow).

It depends on what you mean by the word “compromise.” In my very first Blog musing (Compromise: A Good or Bad Idea in Politics?), I suggested that “compromise is a temporary yielding in an ongoing political process,” quoting with approval President Obama’s definition: “Compromise means yielding on something each of us cares about to move forward on something all of us care about.”

The recent action of Congress dealing with debt reduction and the raising of the debt limit enables me to provide a good concrete illustrative example of when I think compromise is a good idea in politics, in preparation for my response to Tom’s question.

Assuming for the sake or argument (or just for laughs) that I am a member of the Senate or House of Representatives, here is a summary of some beliefs to which I am deeply committed that pertain to this national budget issue.

  •  The debt limit needed to be raised immediately to avoid the U. S. defaulting on its financial obligations.
  •  Initial steps needed to be taken to cut the current level of spending to put government on a path to “living within its means.”
  •  Actual cuts in spending should be such that necessary services for the most needy and vulnerable among us (e.g., the poor and elderly) are not decimated and all segments of society share fairly in whatever sacrifices need to be made.
  •  Steps needed to be taken to reform the Tax Code so that all citizens and corporations are “paying their fair share” of the revenues needed for effective governing.
  •  In the long run, the only viable solution to our debt problem is some variation of the “balanced” approach that President Obama has proposed, which includes a combination of a reduction in governmental spending and an increase in tax revenues brought about by appropriate tax reform (e.g., it is my understanding that the closing of tax loopholes and the elimination of special tax breaks could increase tax revenues while actually reducing individual and corporate tax rates).

In light of my strong commitment to these beliefs, would I vote in favor of the budget bill recently taken by Congress? If you are asking whether I believe that this bill, by itself, comports well with all of the beliefs I summarize above, my answer is definitely “no.” My first two beliefs seem to have been adequately addressed (for now); but steps to implement my last three beliefs are noticeably absent (for now).

But if you are asking whether I believe that, given the dynamics of the present “divided government” in Washington, this was an acceptable first step toward an eventual long-term balanced solution that could conceivably fit well with all of my beliefs, then my answer is “yes;”primarily because it does not preclude the possibility that the bipartisan Joint Select Committee on Deficit Reduction that will be carrying out the future second step could come back to Congress with proposed legislation that fairly shares the sacrifices that need to be made, that requires everyone to pay their fair share of the revenue needed, and that creates a reasonable balance between further expenditure reductions and increased tax revenues. And this may not be as pollyannish as it seems because of the good trigger mechanism that will create automatic drastic reductions in expenditures that those on both sides of the aisle will abhor if Congressional deliberations on the recommendations of the Select Committee reach an impasse.

So, if I were a member of the House or Senate, I would have voted for the budget bill that was just passed. Would such a positive vote on my part reflect a “compromise” of my deeply held beliefs on the budget issue, as sketched above? No, because I view my vote as being the best that could be accomplished in Congress at this point in time, while also taking a first step that keeps open the possibility of eventual legislation that will comport with all the relevant beliefs to which I am strongly committed. If this bill that included only reductions in spending with no increased tax revenues was the end of the story, rather than just a first step, then I would have fatally compromised my most deeply held beliefs by voting for it, and my vote would have been “nay.”

In light of the above concrete example, my response to Tom’s question is that there are particular issues where compromise is not justified, because such compromise deals a fatal irretrievable blow to my deeply held commitments, and there are particular issues where compromise is justified because the “half-a-loaf” (or less) that I am getting is judged by me to be the best that can emerge from the messy political process at this point in time, and the present compromise is such that it holds open the real possibility that there will eventually be legislation that comports more fully with my deeply held beliefs.

My illustrative example should reveal that I can offer no cook-book rules as to when compromise, as I understand it, is called for. It depends on the present political landscape and your sense of what first-steps can be taken now toward the realization of a future that you wish to strive toward in light of your most deeply held beliefs.

Forfeiting Today for a Political Tomorrow

A persistent problem with the political process is that many politicians focus on what they believe needs to be said and done to insure reelection sometime in the future, rather on what they should be saying and doing to govern well today. Recent developments on both sides of the aisle relative to the current contentious budget debate highlight that destructive tendency.

Relative to the “grand bargain” that President Obama is pushing for, that will include both significant cuts in expenditures and increases in revenues through tax reform, a recent publication suggests that “Democrats fear a ‘grand bargain’ will undercut the party’s ability in the 2012 campaigns to use Republicans’ support of deep cuts in Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security against them” (Carl Hulse and Jackie Calmes, “Boehner and Obama Nearing Deal on Cuts and Taxes,” The New York Times Reprint, July 21, 2011).

The proposal launched by Republican leader Mitch McConnell, and now supported by Democrat leader Harry Reid, exemplifies the same problem. They propose giving President Obama authority to increase the debt limit in a very clever manner that enables members of Congress to then vote to express their disagreement, thereby placating their constituents who have the power to return them or not, to office some day in the future.

This political strategy of positioning oneself for reelection in place of addressing the problems of today so cuts across the grain of what I believe and who I have become, that I hardly know where to begin my expressions of concern. I think it reflects a clear abdication of the responsibility of politicians to govern – today, not just later. But more fundamentally, it violates my understanding of how you ought to engage someone with whom you disagree. Let me explain, with the caveat that I once got “fired” for following the advice that is implicit in what I am about to say (as I describe in chapter 14 of my book Learning to Listen, Ready to Talk: A Pilgrimage Toward Peacemaking).

In my work in the academy (which is also a political arena, of sorts), when a problem arose that needed to be solved, and couldn’t wait until the President decided whether or not to renew my contract, I went to great lengths to gather diverse input (background information and opinions) from those who disagreed on how to address the problem. This process included numerous conversations intended to identify where we had some common ground and where we just needed to “agree to disagree” (albeit respectfully). If the authority to make a final decision was vested in me, I then processed all this input, and made a decision, letting the future chips fall where they may. If the authority to make a decision rested with a faculty committee, I encouraged the committee to process the input as carefully as I had before reaching their decision. In either case, we didn’t “kick the can down the road” until we were convinced that out future employment would not be jeopardized. We governed.

In other words, we didn’t forfeit today. We took our best shot at solving the problem at hand, now, not at some unforeseen future date. This required the courage to express our true convictions now, and the patience to listen to the convictions of others, and seek for that measure of common ground that is required for governing, which called for “compromise” (in the good sense of that word – see my first musing on this web site, titled “ Compromise: A Good or Bad Idea in Politics?”). This mode of engaging those with whom you disagree reflects a willingness to embrace that rare combination of deep commitment to one’s own present position on the issue at hand, and openness to the possibility that those who disagree with you can help you to improve upon your present position.

A possible rejoinder to what I have just said is that there is a segment of Congress, those in the Tea Party movement, that exemplifies deep commitment to their position relative to solving our present budget problem, apparently, for some at least, independent of the effect that it may have on getting reelected. Although I disagree with much of the substance of their commitment, I applaud them for having deep commitment to their beliefs, especially if it isn’t driven by a desire to get reelected. But one-out-of-two is good only in baseball. A “grand bargain,” now not later, will be possible only if Tea Party members, as well as those on the other side of the aisle who are equally committed to their views about solving our budget problems, will exhibit greater openness to listening and talking to one another to find the common ground that reflects the best insights from both sides of the aisle.

I heard a pundit say the other day that President Reagan couldn’t get elected today as a dogcatcher, given that he enacted eleven or so tax cuts during his presidency. I suspect that given what I have said above, I would have trouble getting elected to any political position anywhere, and if perchance I were so elected, my chances of getting reelected would be virtually nil. But being true to oneself is immeasurably more important than the results of any election.

Leadership in the Federal Budget Debate

The airwaves are filled with charges and counter-charges as to which politicians are, or are not, providing leadership in attempting to resolve the impasse relative to the need to reduce the federal budget deficit. As we seek to sort through these contrasting voices, we do well to reflect on the nature of effective leadership.

An effective leader is driven by a vision, a dream as to how bad things can become good and good things can become better. To be always satisfied with the status quo is to settle for being a manager and not a leader. Rather than saying “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” an effective leader says “whether it’s broke or not, let’s work to improve it.”

A leader committed to improving on the present state of affairs does not wait around for others to take initiatives for change. He or she must be able to carefully articulate the need for change, a vision for the desired end result of such change, and a viable game plan for accomplishing that desired end.

But a common mistake made by would-be leaders is that once such a vision and game plan have been articulated, then it is the responsibility of the leader to “just do it,” effecting change from the top down. The fatal flaw in that command-and-control approach to leadership is that the quality of the change that is brought about will only be as good as the giftedness of the boss.

In stark contrast, consider the type of leadership that Parker Palmer suggests Jesus exemplified, a form of leadership that fosters community (The Active Life: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity, and Caring, p. 138)

Jesus exercises the only kind of leadership that can evoke authentic community—a leadership that risks failure (and even crucifixion) by making space for other people to act. When a leader takes up all the space and preempts all the action, he or she may make something happen, but the something is not community. Nor is it abundance, because the leader is only one person, and one person’s resources invariably run out. But, when a leader is willing to trust the abundance that people have and can generate together, willing to take the risk of inviting people to share from that abundance, then and only then may true community emerge.

The strength of this collegial approach to leadership, in addition to fostering community, is that it creates the potential for the end result to be as good as the combined giftedness of all members of the community being led.

That is the kind of leader I aspired to be during 22 years as an academic administrator in Christian higher education. Others will have to judge the extent to which I did, or did not live up to that lofty aspiration. In retrospect, I had my share of failures. But, to make all of this more concrete, let me share a strategy I found to work many times. My friends called this “Harold getting his oar in the water.”

When I had a vision for significant institutional change, I didn’t wait around for someone else to take the initiative. I did not hesitate to plant a first seed by suggesting to an appropriate faculty committee or task force the need to examine a particular academic program, policy, or procedure for which they had been delegated responsibility. However, I didn’t just suggest a topic for their consideration. I also had a second seed to plant. With my request for their consideration, I initially came to the committee/task force with a first draft of my present thinking about the issue at hand. What I would then say to the committee/task force was in effect the following: “Here is my present best thinking about this issue. It is now in your capable hands. I expect you to come up with a proposal for eventual faculty action that is better than what I have just given you, a proposal that reflects the best thinking of all of you, not just one person. If you come to the faculty with exactly my proposal, I will be disappointed.”

I then was careful to give the committee or task force the freedom to chew up my initial proposal and improve on it (possibly leading to a variation that I hardly recognized).  When the committee/task force eventually developed a draft that was ready for faculty discussion, their draft went to the whole faculty for an “open hearing,” during which the faculty could provide significant input. After the open hearing, the committee/task force went back to the drawing board, making revisions in their draft that reflected the best thinking of the entire faculty. When a final draft came to the faculty for a vote, it was no longer my proposal, nor was it the proposal of the committee/task force. The whole faculty had shaped it and owned it. How could they vote against a proposal they had so much input into shaping? Of course, this process involving seemingly endless conversations requires much time and patience, but the quality of the result justifies that commitment. To those readers of a more impatient bent, I leave you with a question we used to pose in the aerospace industry: “Why is there never time to do it right the first time, but always time to do it over again?”

There was a precondition that was met in these academic settings that explains the frequent success of this collegial leadership strategy. Neither I, as Chief Academic Officer, nor the faculty began the deliberative process with unyielding, fixed positions on the issue at hand. We were all open to the possibility of learning from one another so that the final result could reflect the best thinking of all members of the academic community.

Unfortunately, meeting that precondition seems to be a remote possibility in our current political climate. Unyielding, fixed positions seem to be so prevalent that my attempts at providing visionary leadership in the academy can be likened to a Sunday School Picnic when compared to the present task of our politicians seeking to find a resolution to our current budget deficit. But if you resonate with the above reflections about the nature of leadership, you can form your own views as to whether President Obama or congressional leaders are, or are not, providing political leadership. If you believe my views on effective leadership are all wrong-headed, or couldn’t possibly work in the political realm, then I welcome your comments.

Seldom All Right or All Wrong

A good way to insure that a conversation will go nowhere is to insist that all your beliefs on the issue at hand are right and those of your conversation partner are all wrong. That could be appropriate, as when talking about issues for which there is irrefutable empirical evidence. But for most complex issues, it is seldom that any one person has a corner on the truth.

There are a number of Christians who believe that postmodernism has it “all wrong.” Since I don’t believe that to be the case, it was refreshing for me to recently read an analysis of postmodernism presented by Tim Muehlhoff and Todd Lewis in their book Authentic Communication: Christian Speech Engaging Culture (chapters 9 & 10). For each of the five “postmodern ideas” that they summarized, they followed with sections on “Areas of Agreement” and “Areas of Concern,” thereby acknowledging that although they didn’t agree with all the tenets of this variegated movement there are aspects of postmodern thought that fit well with the Christian faith.

To illustrate, let me briefly comment on the analysis of these authors regarding the “postmodern idea” that “Truth depends on your point of view” (p. 166). They embrace the postmodern insight that “the world and the truths we embrace are greatly influenced by culture and our social position within culture” (what communications theorists call “standpoint theory” – p. 167 – and what I have called “perspectivalism” in my essay “The Postmodern Opportunity: Christians in the Academy”). I heartily concur. But that doesn’t mean that all truth claims are relative, reflecting only the differing standpoints of the claimants. These authors and I reject such crass relativism. I believe that it is possible to discuss the relative adequacy of competing truth claims using criteria for evaluation that are pertinent to the given area of discourse.

My way of calling into question such crass relativism, borrowed from Merold Westphal, is to distinguish between “Truth” (with a capital T), which is that perfect understanding of reality that only God possesses, and “truth” (with a lower case t), which is the limited and partial understanding of God’s “Truth” that I can grasp as a finite and fallible human being. Therefore, I believe that “truth depends on your point of view,” but “Truth” (as God fully knows it) does not depend on your point of view.

My point in this illustrative example is that Christians need to be careful not to dismiss wholesale the beliefs of those in other intellectual traditions or movements, especially movements having as many strands as postmodernism. No tradition or movement, including my Christian tradition, has it all right or all wrong, for as finite, fallible human beings we all “see through a glass darkly” (I Corinthians 13:12). Therefore, we need to have respectful conversations with those with whom we disagree for the purpose of learning from one another.

[For interested readers, since one criticism of the “Emergent Church” is that it is “soft on the truth,” my counter to that critique, along the lines of what I say above, can be accessed on this web site in the section “On Truth or Not” in the piece titled “Some Characteristics of the Emerging Church”].

The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: is Another Conversation Possible?

The recent exchange between Israeli Prime Minister Netantahu and President Obama did not bode well for the possibility of renewing conversations toward the ultimate goal of a two-state solution in which a state of Israel lives in peace and security with a contiguous Palestinian state.

But against all odds, I believe that conversation can be resumed if both sides will commit to two pre-conditions for conversation. I don’t mean pre-conditions as to what the results of the conversation should be. That is anathema to me because you cannot predict beforehand the results of a genuine conversation. Rather, I refer to two pre-conditions that, if not met up-front, will make it impossible to have a fruitful conversation.

The first pre-condition is that there needs to be general agreement as to the purpose of the conversation. Both Israelis and Palestinians need to agree that the ultimate goal is to create two states that can live in peace and security with one another. It does not appear that this pre-condition has been met.

In brief, in light of the recent reconciliation between the Fatah Party and Hamas, and the official position of Hamas that a state of Israel does not have right to exist, it remains to be seen whether the Palestinian Authority will recognize the right of Israel to exist as a state. To not acknowledge this right is tantamount to rejecting the goal of creating a viable two-state solution, rendering it impossible to re-start a conversation toward that end.

This was Netanyahu’s point when in his recent speech to the U. S. Congress, he said that he will accept a Palestinian state, but he is waiting for Mahmoud Abbas, the President to the Palestinian Authority,  to say, “I will accept a Jewish state.” Netanyahu went on to say that when he hears these six words, “Israel will then be prepared to make a far-reaching compromise.” That remains to be seen. But we will never know if that is possible until there is initial agreement that both Israel and Palestine have a right to exist.

The second pre-condition is that each side not come to the table with fixed, unyielding positions on the issues that need to be discussed. There must be openness on the part of both parties to the possibility of revising one’s initial position on a particular issue in light of the initial position of the other.

Once again, it remains to be seen whether this pre-condition will be met. I illustrate by reporting on what I heard Netanyahu and Obama say relative to the possibility of starting a conversation about borders.

I heard President Obama propose that renewed conversation should start with the prevailing borders before the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, but with adjustments through mutually agreed upon land swaps to take into account Israeli settlements, pointing out that Israel and the Palestinians may have to swap territory on either side of this border to account for the large Jewish settlements that have taken root in the West Bank since 1967.

In his initial response to Obama’s proposal regarding borders, I heard Prime Minister Netanyahu say that for Israel to return to its pre-1967 borders would make it “indefensible,” and, in addition, such a proposal does not take into account what has happened on the ground in the last 44 years.

In this initial exchange, Netanyahue and Obama were obviously talking past each other, because Obama did not say the pre-1967 borders were the end of possible negotiations. Rather, they were a starting point for conversation, with adjustments to be made (mutually agreed upon land swaps) based on what has happened on the ground for the past 44 years.

One journalist called Obama’s proposal for mutually agreed upon land swaps a “nuance” that “Netanyahu simply ignored” (Steven Lee Myers, “Divisions are Clear as Obama and Netanyahu Discuss Peace,” New York Times Reprints, May 20, 2011). But to be fair, I found that many journalists also ignored this nuance in their reporting on this Obama/Netanyahu exchange. Why is that?

It is my perception that nuance does not play well, either in politics or the media. Rather, unyielding fixed positions play well. To rally your political constituents around your position on a controversial issue or to sell airtime or newspapers, stark either/or contrasting fixed positions are taken, allowing little room for talking about nuances that that could lead to a viable middle-of-the road position.

The good news is that in his later speech to the U. S. Congress, Netanyahu did acknowledge this nuance. To be sure, it may be an impossible dream to think that Israel and Palestine can come to “mutual agreement” about such land swaps, and that they can then continue talking about other major areas of disagreement, such as the status of Jerusalem and the return of Palestinian refugees. But first addressing this nuance about borders could at least get the conversation started once again. And, once again, you cannot predict beforehand the results of a genuine conversation.

Despite the apparently intractable nature of the ongoing conflict, I hold tenaciously onto the hope that if both sides will acknowledge the right of both states to exist, and if they will avoid crippling either/or unyielding fixed positions and start talking about what some erroneously dismiss as mere nuances, fruitful conversations can yet begin toward the goal of creating two contiguous states that can live in peace. Hope springs eternal!

My Beliefs are on Pilgrimage

I view my Christian life as a “pilgrimage,” believing that as I walk, faithful to my present understanding of how I should live as a Christian, that very process of walking will lead to further insights as to how I should continue walking (Learning to Listen, Ready to Talk, p. 40).

A corollary of this dynamic view of living is that my beliefs, including that one, are also on pilgrimage. That somewhat scary thought came home to me during my recent reading of a marvelous book by Charles Mathewes titled A Theology of Public Life. Starting with an “Augustinian theology [that] sees love as the fundamental theological, ontological and psychological truth about reality” (p. 261), Mathewes presents a profound and demanding exposition (not casual beach reading) of a “theology of engagement” and a “liturgy of citizenship” that draws out the implications of faith, hope and love for our engagement with others in public life.

Particularly provocative is Mathewes’ suggestion that Christians should allow their beliefs to go on “public pilgrimages” (p. 281). He recognizes that this is risky business, as revealed in the following extended quote that beautifully exemplifies the dynamics of such public engagement.

This “riskiness” means … being willing to put one’s beliefs “into play” – that is, to offer them to the other as a means of shared understanding – a way for the two or more of you to understand the conversation (For example: in a discussion of capital punishment, you say, “well, in my tradition we talk about the need for justice always being framed by mercy.”) If you do this, and do it in a non-defensive manner, and if your interlocutor allows this interpretation to “play itself out,” and you do to, you will find that your beliefs are no longer simply yours, but have become something like “common property.” (Your interlocutor replies, “Yes, mercy – but mercy to whom? To the murdered? To the victim? To the victim’s family?”) And when you receive them back they may be slightly changed, modified here and there by the other’s handling of them, out of her or his (or their) own irreducible perspective and previous experience (pp. 280-281).

Mathewes is not arguing for a relativistic stalemate where any one belief on the issue at hand is as good as any other belief. But he is suggesting that your particular belief may be refined, even improved upon, by your engagement with someone who holds to a differing belief. In fact you may even be able to find some common ground in the midst of your differences.

And such engagement with those who disagree with you is indeed risky. It may take you out of your comfort zone. It may lead you to refine your beliefs in ways that will be viewed with suspicion by other Christians. It may cause you to question some present beliefs that you once thought were central to the Christian faith, but now you wonder because you have engaged some deeply committed Christians who believe otherwise. But Christians should embrace that risk, not run away from it, because creating a welcoming space for someone who disagrees with you is a deep expression of what it means to love others, to which Jesus has called all Christians.

This extended quotation jumped out at me because it comports so well with my own focus on the need to hold in tension both commitment and openness in engaging those who disagree with me; commitment to what I now believe to be true, and openness to refining what I now believe to be true by listening and talking to those who disagree with me, because we all are finite, fallible human beings who do not have a  “God’s eye” view of “Truth.”

Mathewes proposal also comports well with my assertion that “you cannot predict beforehand the results of a genuine conversation.” Of course, we could both be wrong. But, until I can be persuaded otherwise, I will continue my pilgrimage guided by that central belief.

If any readers of this musing have also read this book by Charles Mathewes, I welcome your comments, especially if you believe that my views are wrongheaded.

Feeling Larry’s Pain

I don’t know Larry personally. He is one of many thousands living in American cities that once were the pride of the manufacturing world, but have recently been decimated by the outsourcing of jobs, leaving him jobless and his city littered with abandoned plants.

It is all too easy for academics, sitting around a seminar table discussing the pros and cons of globalization, or for politicians, debating the merits of a proposed trade agreement, to ignore the pain that Larry feels, and, therefore, not factor such a realization into their deliberations. So, although I don’t know Larry, let me imaginatively attempt to speak on his behalf.

The job that Larry lost was the same job that his father and grandfather also worked, and that he thought his son would one day work.  Larry didn’t just lose a job. He lost a way of life that was passed on through generations. Larry once had a reason to believe that this way of life was stable, likely to continue for generations to come, But that stability was displaced by disruption. And this disruption has had a devastating effect on Larry’s very sense of who he is. The story of his life has been broken. He feels the pain of no longer being sure of his personal identity and his place in the world.

So when Larry hears academics and TV pundits pontificate on the benefits of globalization, he easily responds the way we all are inclined to respond when our personal identity is threatened, by expressions of dissatisfaction that can morph into rage, including name-calling and demonization of those “experts” who have not walked in his shoes, who have not felt his pain. As sociologist John W. Hawthorne has pointed out, it is “the gap between the stories people have grown up with and the reality that they see around them” that easily leads to deep dissatisfaction

Now that Larry has had his say, so to speak, what can be done? Nostalgia is not the solution. While there is room for legitimate debate as to the advantages and disadvantages of globalization, a topic that goes far beyond the boundaries of my expertise, and how to “steer” globalization in a direction that will minimize the negative effects on Larry, it is impossible to go back to the good old days for the former citadels of American manufacturing.

Hawthorne, in a splendid unpublished paper titled “Broken Stories, Identity, and the Restoration of Civil Discourse,” suggests that the “broken stories,” of Larry and others, that were associated with particular social arrangements in the past, need to be replaced by new stories that are “rich enough” to handle the social changes that have taken place.

Of course, this is easier said than done. How does Larry forge such a richer story? Not by himself. That story can only be forged in conversation with others, including those who share his pain, those who don’t have a clue about his pain, and those who, intentionally or unintentionally, have contributed to his pain. Although it stretches the imagination, it is conceivable that such a “larger conversation” will lead to agreement as to aspects of our common humanity that can help to shape this richer story. Hawthorne dares to suggest that “when we come to recognition of commonality, the richer story is crafted.”

The above reflections have enormous implications for the political process. First, if the results of any potential political legislation can significantly impact the lives on non-politicians, which is the case for virtually all political legislation, then those who will be affected must have a voice at the table. It is simply not acceptable for those who legislate trade agreements with other countries to ignore the voices of those whose very identity will be threatened by those agreements.

A second political implication is to realize that when Larry is invited to the table, he will not be persuaded by a host of rational arguments. That is because his crisis is not intellectual but existential; it is tied to a deep identity story. Larry is dissatisfied or enraged because his very identity is being threatened. Politicians ignore that fact at their peril. In my wildest dreams, politicians will give Larry room to express his dissatisfaction and rage, and having heard Larry, will contribute positively to crafting that richer story that will reflect those common features of the humanity that they share with Larry.

Finally, these implications for the role that Larry should play in the political process can be generalized to all Americans. It is foolhardy to ride roughshod over any citizen’s sense of identity, whether that identity is formed by generations of continuous employment at the same plant, or by any other aspects of our stories, such as our particular religious or secular worldview commitments. The factors that shape our various identities need to be given a welcoming space for expression in the public square.

[For readers wishing to correspond with professor Hawthorne, he can be contacted at john.hawthorne@arbor.edu].

A Modest Goal For Public Discourse, or Not

When is a conversation “genuine?” Michael King suggests that it is when there is “a mutual quest for treasure in our own and the other’s viewpoint.”

Elaborating, King suggests that this entails making two key moves: “the first move is to make as clear as I can why I hold this position … and why you may find in it treasure to value in your own quest for truth. The second move is to see the value in the other’s view … and to grow in my own understandings by incorporating as much of the other’s perspective as I can without losing the integrity of my own convictions” (Mutual Treasure, P. 153).

This ideal for public discourse establishes a very high standard. When I am about to engage someone with whom I have major disagreements, I do not always do so with the attitude that I am going to “actively seek for treasure” in what he or she believes. I have a lot of company. Is this lofty goal attainable?

Another Mennonite scholar, Carolyn Schrock-Shenk, suggests that King may have set the bar too high when dealing with volatile and contentious issues. She asks, “Does one need to be open to changing one’s perspective or conviction about an issue?” In her view, when dealing with highly charged issues, such as homosexuality, “that readiness is the ideal, but it is rarely realistic.”

Schrock-Shenk then proposes a more modest goal that she believes is a “minimum requirement for genuine conversation”: “a readiness to change or modify one’s perspective about the person or persons holding the opposite point of view” (Stumbling Toward a Genuine Conversation on Homosexuality, P. 15).

Is this more modest goal for public discourse feasible? I see little evidence of it in current political debate. The rampant tendency to resort to name-calling, and even demonization, of politicians on the other side of the aisle doesn’t suggest that a result of ongoing political debate has caused many to modify their perspectives about the persons who are their political opponents.

But, closer to home, is this apparently modest goal feasible within the Christian community? When Christians engage other Christians who disagree with them on contentious issues, is there evidence that such engagement typically modifies the perspective one Christian has about the person with whom he or she disagrees? I see little broad evidence for that change in perspective, and I will conjecture as to the reason for that.

The problem, as I see it, is the prevalence of “litmus tests” among Christians relative to controversial questions, such as the following: How did God create the universe? What will be the nature of the “end times?” Is abortion ever an appropriate moral choice? What about homosexuality and gay marriage? Should a Christian ever resort to violence? Is a particular political affiliation most compatible with the Christian faith?

All of these questions are important, and should be discussed respectfully by Christians who propose different answers. But such conversations are difficult to get started or to sustain because of the up-front application of litmus tests intended to separate “us” from “them.” If you do not embrace one particular answer to one of these questions, that just proves that you have a low view of the authority of the Bible, or you are not a deeply committed Christian, if you are a Christian at all. End of conversation!

How can this problem be solved? My proposed solution is for you to get to know, on a personal level, the person with whom you disagree. Such personal knowledge will help you to understand better that person’s reasons for his or her position, which could change your perspective about that person, You may come to the realization that he or she is also a deeply committed follower of Jesus, even though you differ about the issue at hand. Lest you think this is wishful thinking, let me share with you a personal experience that caused me to change my perspective about another Christian.

My church hosted a dialogue on one of the contentious questions noted above. Although the dialogue was scheduled for two days, some were ready to go home early by applying a simple litmus test. But most of us were willing to start with the assumption that there may be alternative Christian views on the issue at hand that equally committed followers of Jesus could embrace. So the conversation proceeded, with the last session devoted to one-on-one conversations between pairs of attendees. By chance, or by design (I was later told), I was paired with a local pastor who was known to hold strong views on the issue with which I disagreed, and who was vocal about his views. How awkward would this prove to be?

It didn’t prove to be awkward at all, because we didn’t just jump into the issue at hand. Rather we started by talking about where we came from geographically (his boyhood home was in the same state as my wife’s home), about our children (his daughters were attending a Christian College in Pennsylvania with which I was familiar), and about our respective Christian pilgrimages. We then spent some time talking about the issue at hand, but I don’t think we changed each other’s basic point of view. However, our conversation changed my preconceived notions about this person, and I left our time together thankful that I had engaged another deeply committed follower of Jesus.

I learned a valuable lesson through this experience. If we get to know personally other Christians who disagree with us on contentious issues, it may slow down (albeit, probably not eliminate) the centrifugal tendency toward disunity among Christians and help us to realize that we can have Christian fellowship with other followers of Jesus who differ with us on some contentious issues because we share a common commitment to be followers of Jesus. Once we come to that realization, we may even be ready to seek and find some mutual treasures in each other’s perspectives.

In brief, your embracing the apparently modest goal of openness to changing your perspective about the person with whom you disagree may be a first step toward the loftier goal of seeking for mutual treasures.

Mixtures of Good and Bad Ideas

Now that both Paul Ryan and Barack Obama have unveiled their respective plans for our national budget, at least in broad outline form, the airwaves will be filled with talk of “good ideas” and “bad ideas.”

My experience suggests that if I wish to engage someone who disagrees with me on a given issue, the surest way to insure that our conversation ends abruptly is for me to hold tenaciously to the questionable proposition that all my ideas are good and all his ideas are bad. I have always tried to present a strong rationale for what I considered to be my good ideas. But, as I have listened respectfully to the ideas of someone who disagrees with me, I often found that some of my initial ideas were bad in comparison to some of his good ideas. And in the best of conversations, my partner also made adjustments in his initial views about good ideas and bad ideas.

So, in the heated budget debate that is upon us, it is reasonable for those on both sides of the aisle to present strong rationales for their respective proposals. But I hope, possibly naively, that each politician will be open to the possibility that those on the other side of the aisle have some ideas that are better than their initial ideas. Such openness will be necessary to attain bipartisan consensus.

In the book Mutual Treasure that Michael King and I edited, King calls this give-and-take between those holding opposing views the “seeking for mutual treasure.” Many will not want to embark on such a mutual quest because they are convinced that there is absolutely no treasure to be found in opposing views. But you can’t predict beforehand the results of a genuine conversation. If politicians on both sides of the aisle are willing to engage in respectful conversation, they may find some treasure in the opposing views, without sacrificing their own treasures.

As this budget debate heats up, I would like to reflect on one aspect of Obama’s comments when he unveiled the outlines of his budget plan, his pointing to the importance of both our “individuality” and our “connectivity” as Americans.

To be sure, much of our economic progress throughout our history can be traced to giving self-reliant individuals space to be creative and innovative. Such space needs to be maintained.

However our history also reveals strong elements of “connectivity” between individuals, wherein we embrace an obligation to care for those who are less fortunate than we are, including those who, for various reasons, cannot compete in a “free-market” economy. From my own Christian perspective, promoting such connectivity is central to the command of Jesus that we love others.

It is tempting, but false, to suggest that one of these emphases is the exclusive preoccupation of one of our major political parties, while the other party exclusively embraces the other emphasis. Besides, that presents a false choice. It has to be both/and, not either/or. I hope that persons of good will on both sides of the aisle will embrace the proposition that there are aspects of both our “individuality” and our “connectivity” that need to be embraced, so that the ongoing debate can focus on what those particular aspects are and on the challenging question of the “balance” that needs to be created between these two important emphases.

Wanted: an Even Playing Field for the Budget Debate

We have traversed the foothills, but the climb of the Himalayas now begins, to paraphrase one TV pundit’s reflections on the recent budget deal that prevented a government shutdown.

That arduous climb appears to start with one element of common ground – Any attempt to bring about long-term budget deficit reduction will require that politicians on both sides of the aisle address the big ticket items of entitlements, tax structure and military spending. But how does one proceed beyond this modest point of agreement? To date, only a representative of one side of the aisle, Republican Paul Ryan, has put forth a comprehensive proposal that addresses the contentious particulars.

I give credit to Ryan for putting his bold proposal out on the table. Of course, the Democratic pundits are having a field day, calling elements of Ryan’s proposal “bad ideas” that benefit the rich at the expense of the poor. That may be the case, and that portion of the debate needs to continue. But that debate is carried out on an uneven playing field until Democrats present a comprehensive proposal, the elements of which Republicans can choose to label as “bad ideas.”

The good news, as I understand it, is that such a comprehensive Democratic plan for dealing with the big ticket budget items is forthcoming. After that proposal is out on the table, it will be possible to have a fair debate as to the relative merits, or demerits, of proposals from both sides of the aisle, hopefully leading to the emergence of further common ground beyond agreeing that we have a long-term budget problem.

I will dare to generalize these reflections on the current budget debate. Whatever the issue at hand, it is all too easy to criticize a position taken by someone else, without allowing for reciprocal criticism of your position, simply because you haven’t stated a position that can be criticized and discussed.

If the “Ideals for Conversation” that I have proposed elsewhere on this web site have any validity, then the quest for substantive common ground will go nowhere unless those who disagree first listen to and seek to understand adequately the contrary positions of others. This obviously requires that the various contrary positions be put on table. Only then can those in conversation begin to uncover where they agree and where they disagree, and go on from there, depending on the purpose of the conversation.