Category: Andrew Fiala Blog

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On the wisdom of not clinging to power

Fresno Bee, Feb. 18, 2024

We have entered an era of bumbling gerontocracy. The crusty old codgers clinging to power are embarrassing.

Consider the recent report of the special investigator in the Biden classified documents case. The report said that since Biden is a congenial old duffer, a jury would not convict him of mishandling official documents. The special counsel said, “Mr. Biden would likely present himself to a jury, as he did during our interview of him, as a sympathetic, well-meaning, elderly man with a poor memory… He is someone for whom many jurors will want to identify reasonable doubt. It would be difficult to convince a jury that they should convict him.”

This has been red meat for the “Let’s go Brandon” crowd. And the Biden backers claim it is a partisan hit job. But the other side is no better. Trump is accused of fomenting an insurrection, among other crimes. And left-leaning pundits have chronicled Trump’s gaffes and mental slips, including how he confused Nikki Haley with Nancy Pelosi, and his bizarre recent claim that liberals want to rename Pennsylvania.

In a better world, both candidates would step aside. This will be a depressing dumpster fire of an election year. But perhaps we can learn something along the way about leadership and power.

A good leader should be smart, truthful and thoughtful. He or she should be courageous and compassionate. And a leader should not cling to power.

Plato explained, over two thousand years ago, that the best leaders are usually the least eager to lead. Would-be tyrants lie, cheat, and cajole their way into power. Virtuous people will not play that ugly game.

Plato said that wise rulers must be compelled to rule by a sense of justice and duty. He concluded that the best rulers are those who are “most reluctant to govern.” This sounds bizarre and almost impossible. Can we really imagine a person who serves as a matter of duty, and not because they desire glory?

George Washington may provide a model. When asked to consider the presidency, Washington said he would rather stay home. He said, “it is my great and sole desire to live and die in peace and retirement, on my own farm.” But if he were called upon to serve, he said, “I hope I shall always possess firmness and virtue enough to maintain (what I consider the most enviable of all titles) the character of an honest man.”

Perhaps this was a kind of false modesty on Washington’s part. It is possible for a manipulative person to say “no” to power as a strategic ploy. They might deviously hope that a public display of humility will be persuasive.

But Washington’s writings reveal a man who was focused on questions of virtue. Washington wanted to be remembered as a man who dedicated his life to the service of his country with “an upright zeal.” This is how he put it in his Farewell Address, as he voluntarily left office after two terms at the age of 65.

Washington’s decision not to run for a third term established the basic norm of the two-term presidency. This norm was put into law after Franklin D. Roosevelt’s four-term presidency.

Scholars debate the reasons for Washington’s refusal to run for a third term. But most seem to think that he really did desire to retreat to a private life at Mount Vernon. The consensus view seems to be, as one scholar put it, “in turning away from further service, Washington established himself as a model of selfless leadership.”

Selfless leadership is a noble idea. The best leaders should be reluctant to serve — but do so willingly, out of a sense of duty. They should want to be known as honest people. And they should have the constancy of character, and orientation toward virtue, that Washington called upright zeal.

They should also possess wisdom. Wisdom is different from quickness of wit. Young people are quick and witty. But wisdom comes with age and experience, and with a mellowing of the passions.

So, the age of our leading candidates is not the only thing that matters. What matters more is whether these old-timers are wise and virtuous, and whether they insist on clinging to power.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article285541682.html#storylink=cpy

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The Joy of Secular Christmas

What do secular people do at Christmas?

A Christian friend recently asked me how nonreligious people like me celebrate Christmas. I said, “Well, we put up a tree, decorate the house, eat cookies and drink mulled wine. We give presents and have fun with friends and family. We sing Christmas songs and watch Christmas movies.”

Nonreligious people pretty much do what everyone else does. We don’t go to church. But Christmas is much more than going to church.

This may come as a surprise to those who insist that we keep the “Christ” in “Christmas.” But Christmas can be enjoyed without the dogmas of Christianity. The decorating, gift-giving, eating and drinking have very little to do with Bethlehem and the birth of Christ.

More Americans embrace Christmas than are Christian. Christianity is the religion of about 63% of Americans. But one recent survey indicates that more than 70% of Americans plan to put up a Christmas tree in 2023. Another survey (from an obviously biased source—the American Christmas Tree Association) puts the number above 90%.

I know lots of nonreligious people who decorate their homes and put up a tree. Indeed, the tree is not originally a Christian thing. It comes from the pagan winter rituals of northern European. Christmas trees were not usual in the United States until about a hundred years ago.

Christmas is a weird mash-up of German, English, and American traditions. This includes much of the “magic” of Christmas as conjured up by Hollywood films. Hollywood teaches us that Christmas is a time of spiritual transformation, when Grinch and Scrooge learn their lessons, when George Bailey discovers that this is a wonderful life, and when children of all ages keep the magic alive by believing in Santa Claus.

This stuff is fun. It involves the spirit of play, magic, and fantasy, and the familiar nostalgia of repetition and ritual.

One scholar, Christopher Deacy, has argued that secular Christmas is in fact “religious”—as a set of rituals and communal practices that have a broadly “sacred” significance (even if not specifically Christian). Christmas makes a festival of consumerism. But it is also about transformation, love, gratitude, generosity, wonder, and hope.

Those Christmas values are not uniquely Christian. Indeed, the American and Hollywood versions of Christmas are decidedly secular and inclusive. You don’t need to be Christian to enjoy the fun.

People do not typically say at Christmas, “You must accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior.” That’s ultimately what it means to keep Christ in Christmas. The religious story is about the birth of a savior—the “Christ,” which means the anointed or chosen one.

The Christian tradition teaches that God became man through the mystery of the virgin birth. Christ is born in Bethlehem to save us from sin. This makes it possible to be reunited with God, and to merit eternal life.

All of that theological stuff is mysterious and miraculous. How and why did God become man at that place and time? It is a mystery. Why do we need salvation from sin? The fundamental assumption of Christian theology is that without the savior, we are doomed. And how does the birth, life, and death of Christ accomplish this? Well, that’s a mystery that requires faith.

The Christian joy celebrated in hymns like “Joy to the World,” rests upon a deep sense of sin and fear of death. Christian joy includes a sense of relief and gratitude directed toward a mysterious God, who condemns sin. But the incarnation of Christ somehow transforms God from a harsh judge to a loving father.

Thus, Christian joy is tinged with fear and gloom. This may explain why the Puritan colonists of early America were anti-Christmas. They viewed Christmas as a frivolous celebration tainted by “pagan mockery” and “mad mirth.” As I explained in previous column on Christmas, “For Puritans, salvation is serious business. Merriment in this world distracts us from the need to be saved from sin.”

Secular joy is different from Christian joy. Nonreligious folks who make merry at Christmas are not worried about sin or the metaphysics of salvation. We know that death is always present, as we remember those we’ve lost and those at risk of dying.

But at Christmas, we do not dwell on death. Instead, we affirm life. Here we are, together again. We celebrate despite our mortality. We are fortunate to laugh and sing and play with our loved ones. We know that someday the party will end. But while the candles are still burning and the songs are being sung, our hearts are warmed by love, gratitude, and the joy of secular Christmas.

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Ethics Lessons: Learning and Improving

October is global ethics month, at least according to the Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs. The Carnegie Council has also declared the third Wednesday of October as Global Ethics Day. This October is busy for me in terms of public presentations on ethics. This month, I’ll be talking ethics with economic development professionals, folks working in healthcare, and educational leaders. I’ll also be speaking in Tennessee and Ohio on the ethics of war, and about ethical issues in political life.

As I’m reflecting on the common thread of these presentations, a few things come to mind. First, ethics matters for all human beings. It is especially important for professionals. Second, there are unavoidable moral conflicts. But there is also general consensus about what it takes to be good and to do good work. Finally, ethics can be taught and trained. We are not born knowing the difference between right and wrong. Rather, we learn this from mentors and role models. And even though we begin as novices in living well, we can improve. Let’s consider each of these points in turn.

Ethics matters for everyone including professionals

Human beings mostly want to be good, to do good, and to live good lives. There are some bad actors in the world: criminals and sociopaths exist. And some people may get a thrill out of being notorious, or have a strange admiration for bad guys (as I discussed recently). But for the most part, human beings want to be known for being good. And most people seem to understand that happiness depends in part on virtue.

This is especially true in specialized fields and in the professions. Consider sports as an obvious example. Athletic endeavors have standards of excellence and rules that must be followed. If you value the sport, you ought to want to play by the rules. A person who “wins” a 100-meter race by tripping an opponent has not really won. Cheating defeats the very idea of winning and of excellence in an endeavor.

Now consider the ethical codes, rules, and standards of excellence that govern doctors, lawyers, journalists, artists, and other professionals including soldiers. These ethical ideals define what it means to be a good doctor, lawyer, and so on. To be an excellent member of a professional community, you have to do the right thing.

This is also true in families, friendships, and in life in general. A good mother, father, brother, or friend is honest, kind, courageous, and respectful. Ethics matters in our relationships. It also helps define your identity: what you are known for, and who you are. Some of this is specific to professional roles. But much of what counts as ethical is found in widespread and common ideas about human flourishing and excellence.

Moral conflicts exist but there is also broad general consensus

This broad consensus about ethics is found in typical lists of key virtues, characteristics, and behaviors of good people. Around the world it is widely held that good people are fair, truthful, and compassionate. Different cultures and traditions may emphasize different sorts of virtues, or connect them in different ways. But there is no culture or tradition that says that murder is noble, that we should break our promises, or that cowards are admirable.

This is not to deny that there are conflicts and that some values are relative to culture and history. There are genuine dilemmas in ethics such as the conflict between justice and mercy. Proponents of retributive justice think that justice requires “eye for eye” retaliation. Others call for forgiveness, mercy, and compassion. This is a genuine conflict.

But here is also consensus in addition to conflict. The challenging nature of ethical dilemmas may be why people often spend more time talking about conflicts than about consensus. It is a bit boring to say that everyone values honesty. It is more provocative to think about cases when honesty may not be the best policy—for example, in cases involving spies or when authorities lie to people for their own good.

We can learn to be ethical

Finally, let’s note that we are not born knowing how to be good. I tend to be sympathetic to the idea that human babies are born with a tendency toward prosocial behavior, and maybe even an innate sense of compassion and fairness. But those innate tendencies must be nurtured and developed. Ethical behavior among adults is learned behavior. As Aristotle suggested character is “second nature.”

Goodness is developed by emulating role models. It is further developed by “direct instruction”: by some code or teacher literally explaining to us the difference between right and wrong. We also need coaches and mentors, who encourage us and offer criticism. It helps to have structures of accountability (including rewards and punishments). And we need positive peer pressure: good friends help us be better.

Training and mentorship are also important in professional life. Professional organizations help cultivate good behavior by instructing, coaching, and reminding. They hold individuals accountable, reward good behavior, and punish the bad. Good organizations often have codes, training programs, and systems that reinforce values and ideals. All of that is important for what is called “professionalization,” which is the process by which people come to identify with the values of professional life.

The Value of Ethics Month

With all of that on the table, let me conclude by suggesting why it is useful to have a month and a day dedicated to ethics. It is easy to get lazy and take your eye off the ball. But if you want to live well, you need reminders and admonitions. We often take virtue and character for granted and simply assume that people will figure this out for themselves. Some folks may also think that some people are just good by nature, and others are irredeemably corrupt. But the truth is that we can improve. Reminders help, as do mentors and role models. It also helps to set aside some time—a month, a day, or an hour—to think critically and explicitly about ethics.  

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Moral Vision and Transcendence

Moral vision sees the suffering of others. It also requires you to extend your gaze beyond the present and into the future. To see the world morally you must look at things clearly, fairly, and compassionately. Morality also requires you to balance the needs of the near-at-hand with the demands of a distant horizon. That distant horizon offers a transcendent perspective on your life and your legacy.

Last week I wrote a column about speed, and our culture’s emphasis on quickness. Some things must be done quickly. But many good things—love, grief, and happiness—require us to slow down. The key is moderation, and knowing when to go quickly and when to go slow. Wisdom also requires us to balance short-term and long-term points of view.

It is common to distinguish between short-term and long-term thinking, goals, and ambitions. Ethical decision-making procedures typically emphasize this as part of cost-benefit analysis. This seems obvious. But what do we mean by short-term and long-term? How short is too short? And how long should long-term be? We are often confused about this. And quite a few things go wrong when we are not careful about how we judge the relative value of what’s close-at-hand and what’s far away.

We also tend to confuse long-term concerns with medium-term goals. We tend to ignore the really long-term. We can describe this as part of our general “moral myopia.” We are near-sighted about morality and the good life. This occurs most obviously, when our moral gaze does not extend beyond our own self-interest. Morality asks us to direct our attention and care to the suffering of others.

But which others should we focus on: those nearest, or those farther away? A balance is needed. This is true with regard to significant social and political issues such as climate change, or war and peace. We ought to focus on the costs and benefits in the near- and medium-term. But really long-term goals also matter. We should care about those who suffer from storms and floods today. But we should also take long-term steps to prevent catastrophic climate change. Compassion must be extended to those suffering from war today. But we must also work to create the conditions for lasting world peace.

And in our own lives, we must balance short-term and long-term needs and interests. Short-term thinking breeds corruption. It causes people to lie and cheat. It also explains why people fail to prepare for retirement, and why we struggle to correct destructive health habits. The intense pleasures of the moment can overwhelm our desire to do well in the long-run.

The utilitarian philosophers created a process called “the hedonic calculus” (sometimes called the felicific calculus) that helps balance short-term and long-term goals. The utilitarians tell us to consider the “intensity” of pleasures, their “propinquity” (nearness), their “fecundity” (the tendency of a pleasure to produce other pleasures), and the general social utility of our policies and choices.

The utilitarian calculus is useful for thinking about short- and medium-term goods. It reminds us that it is prudent to save for retirement and to eat healthily. It also shows that honesty and fidelity pay off. And the idea of general utility asks us to factor in the happiness of others both near and far.

But what about really long-term goods? We should add to the calculus the transcendent value of your entire life. Moral vision should consider the legacy you hope to leave behind. Transcendent goods extend beyond the simple trade-offs of cost-benefit analysis. When you view your life as a whole that even transcends your death, things begin to look differently. The transcendent vantage point asks you to imagine your entire biography, and the impact your life will have on your friends, family, and the world as a whole.

The transcendent long-term is important when thinking about the legacy of the present generation. We ought to ask ourselves how our lives will affect the next several generations. We ought to work to create a world for our grandchildren, and their grandchildren, that is decent, healthy, peaceful, and free.

Ours is a short- and medium-term culture. The intense concerns of the moment encourages moral myopia. We’re often so busy with a, b, and c that we forget to look toward x, y, and z. But at some point, you will reach your last moment. And when you are gone, you ought to hope that those who come after will be grateful for who you were, what you created, and what you left behind.

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Shared values of dignity and human rights at the Parliament of the World’s Religions

Parliament of World Religion’s confirms every person has dignity & rights

Fresno Bee, August 20, 2023

I attended the Parliament of the World’s Religions last week in Chicago. It is the largest interfaith gathering in the world. It featured participants from 80 nations and more than 200 different religious traditions. There were also a few nonreligious people, like myself.

My interest in the Parliament is connected to its idea of a global ethic. In 1993, the parliament adopted a declaration, “Toward a Global Ethic,” stating that the world’s religious and ethical traditions agree that “every individual has intrinsic dignity and inalienable rights.” This unifying idea is found in other important international agreements. The UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted in 1948, states: “Recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.”

The good news is that there is broad consensus about human dignity and human rights. But we still face challenges. And we disagree about the particulars.

One ongoing challenge is bad actors who reject the general idea of dignity and human rights. Tyrants and psychopaths are not committed to these ideals. In religious language, we might speak here of sin and evil. The challenge of evil is real. How should those who believe in human rights respond to bad guys?

We disagree about this. The debate about retributive justice and restorative justice reflects this disagreement. Defenders of retributivism think evil-doers ought to suffer and pay for their crimes. But advocates of restorative justice think that mercy, forgiveness, and rehabilitation are more important. We also disagree about how to create resilient and humane institutions that can limit the harm done by bad actors.

This disagreement is not about the shared ideal of human dignity. Rather, it is about how we ought to apply that idea. This kind of conflict is typical of the ongoing challenge of what to do when good people disagree about the meaning and application of shared universal values.

There are many examples of this kind of challenge, seen in our disagreements about social justice and social welfare. Consider, for example, the question of abortion. The anti-abortion camp thinks that prenatal human life has dignity and value, and deserves protection. The pro-choice camp thinks that women have the right to choose to control their own reproductive lives.

In cases like these, when good people disagree, we should avoid villainizing and stigmatizing those with whom we disagree. Defenders of retributivism are not evil; nor are advocates of restorative justice. The same is true of the pro-choice vs. pro-life argument. These are not disputes involving goodness on one side and wickedness on the other. Rather, they are disputes in which good people disagree about the meaning and application of dignity and human rights.

Which brings me back to the importance of organizations like the Parliament of the World’s Religions, and documents like the UN’s Declaration of Human Rights. It is important to remind ourselves that common ground does exist. Good people can and do agree about basic principles of ethics. There is agreement about values that are important for living well. These shared values include honesty, respect, justice, fairness, integrity, compassion and love.

In our polarized era, it is easy to view others as evil, sinful or delusional. This is not to deny that there are wicked people in the world. But not every ethical dispute is a matter of good vs. evil.

Once we acknowledge that good people can disagree about the application of basic ethical principles, we have an incentive to be more humble and more hospitable. The way forward is to celebrate core values that we can all affirm. And then, with that shared foundation, we can work together to figure out why we continue to disagree, and how we might negotiate and compromise with other good people.

The good news is that there is broad consensus about basic ethical principles. But that is not the end of the story. Rather, these shared values provide a starting point for further dialogue. The remaining work is to explore what these values mean, how we apply them in specific cases, and how we can live together despite our disagreements.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article278379244.html#storylink=cpy