Author Archives: Peter

About Peter

Associate Dean for Research and the Lincoln Filene Professor of Citizenship and Public Affairs at Tufts University's Tisch College of Civic Life. Concerned about civic education, civic engagement, and democratic reform in the United States and elsewhere.

the future, in utilitarianism and pragmatism

In 1993, Cornel West wrote that “the future has ethical significance” for pragmatists. “In fact, the key to pragmatism, the distinctive feature that sets it apart from other philosophical traditions—and maybe its unique American character—is its emphasis on the ethical significance of the future” (West 1993, 111). He quotes John Dewey and Josiah Royce to that effect.

At first glance, this claim seems mistaken. What about utilitarianism, which teaches that an act, policy, rule, or institution is good to the extent that it improves happiness in the future?

For philosophers, utilitarianism is a type of consequentialism. In general, consequentialism focuses on the future by assuming that our responsibility is to make things better in the long run. Utilitarianism is the version that equates “better” with greater net happiness. Therefore, isn’t utilitarianism as much concerned with the “ethical significance of the future” as pragmatism is? And isn’t pragmatism a form of consequentialism?

I agree with West that pragmatism has a distinctive focus on the future. Utilitarians believe that we know today the criterion for evaluating future states. We already know what happiness is, and we will find out later whether our current actions promote future happiness. Our concern with the future requires predicting the effects of the present on outcomes that we value today.

In contrast, pragmatists presume that values will change as a result of continuous learning. We cannot know today the criteria by which the outcomes of our present acts will later be judged.

Dewey writes that the “present meaning of action” is the “only good which can fully engage thought.” He is against measuring this present meaning in terms of “a remote good” or “future good,” whether that “be defined as pleasure, or perfection, or salvation, or attainment of virtuous character.” This sounds like a focus on the present to the exclusion of the future. But Dewey adds:


‘Present’ activity is not a sharp narrow knife-blade in time. The present is complex, containing within itself a multitude of habits and impulses. It is enduring, a course of action, a process including memory, observation and foresight, a pressure forward, a glance backward and a look outward. It is of moral moment because it marks a transition in the direction of breadth and clarity of action or in that of triviality and confusion. Progress is present reconstruction adding fullness and distinctness of meaning, and retrogression is a present slipping away of significance, determinations, grasp. Those who hold that progress can be perceived and measured only by reference to a remote goal, first confuse meaning with space, and then treat spatial position as absolute, as limiting movement instead of being bounded in and by movement. There are plenty of negative elements, due to conflict, entanglement and obscurity, in most of the situations of life, and we do not require a revelation of some supreme perfection to inform us whether or no we are making headway in present rectification. We move on from the worse and into, not just towards, the better, which is authenticated not by comparison with the foreign but in what is indigenous. Unless progress is a present reconstructing, it is nothing; if it cannot be told by qualities belonging to the movement of transition it can never be judged (Dewey 1922, 281-2)

This is rich but abstract. For me, at least, Ruth Ann Putnam helps make Dewey’s view more concrete. She defines “inquiry” as a process that begins when we perceive a problem—something that requires action. “Values typically enter into the beginning of an inquiry on an equal footing with facts,” and they emerge on an equal footing as well, but potentially changed by being explored and compared by groups of people. She writes: “the facts are value-laden, and the values are fact-laden” (Putnam 1998, 7).

See also: explaining Dewey’s pragmatism; Dewey and the current toward democracy; a John Dewey primer. Sources: Cornel West, “Pragmatism and the Sense of the Tragic,” in Keeping Faith: Philosophy and Race in America (1993): 96-106; John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct: An Introduction to Social Psychology (Henry Holt, 1922); Ruth Ann Putnam, “Perceiving Facts and Values,” Philosophy 73, no. 283 (January 1988): 5–19

features of effective boycotts

Classic boycotts have these features:

  1. A goal: What the boycott aims to achieve.
  2. A target: a decision-maker who is capable of doing something relevant to the goal.
  3. A demand: something that the target could agree to do.
  4. A cost: something that the target will lose if they don’t meet the demand.
  5. Negotiators: Individuals who can credibly agree to stop the boycott if the target complies sufficiently.
  6. A message: a description of the boycott that is aimed at relevant third-parties, such as observers who are undecided about the issue.
  7. Accountable leaders: people who decide on the previous six points and are answerable to those who actually boycott.

I am not posting this list to cast shade on the national boycott that took place on Feb. 28. I participated! And some of these components may have been in place. For example, people who boycotted through “Black churches with longstanding social justice ministries (like Trinity UCC in Chicago)” did have accountable leaders who articulated a message.

Also, it is possible that the seven features that made the Great Salt March and the Montgomery Bus Boycott succeed are not required in every successful action.

Nevertheless, we must think critically about strategy, or else we are less likely to win. I would recommend attention to the strategies that were so important to Gandhi and King.

A teaching case that I wrote for Johns Hopkins’ Agora Institute about the Montgomery Bus Boycott is available free here and can be used by voluntary groups as well as by students in courses. At its heart, it asks people to think about goals, targets, demands, methods, and decision-making processes.

See also: the current state of resistance, and what to do about it; strategizing for civil resistance in defense of democracy; building power for resisting authoritarianism; Rev. James Lawson, Jr on Revolutionary Nonviolence; three new cases for learning how to organize and make collective change; learning from Memphis, 1968; etc.

Google Ngram graph of the word oligarch.

the rise of oligarchy

The public money and public liberty, intended to have been deposited with three branches of magistracy, but found inadvertently to be in the hands of one only, will soon be discovered to be sources of wealth and dominion to those who hold them… They [the assembly] should look forward to a time, and that not a distant one, when a corruption in this, as in the country from which we derive our origin, will have seized the heads of government, and be spread by them through the body of the people; when they will purchase the voices of the people, and make them pay the price. Human nature is the same on every side of the Atlantic, and will be alike influenced by the same causes. The time to guard against corruption and tyranny, is before they shall have gotten hold of us. It is better to keep the wolf out of the fold, than to trust to drawing his teeth and talons after he shall have entered (Thomas Jefferson, 1785)

In current parlance, I think, an “oligarch” is someone with great personal wealth who influences politics, whether directly or via media. Oligarchs are not publicly traded corporations, and the threat they pose to democracy is different. The rise of oligarchs is also different from income inequality. It’s not about whether the top one percent or the top 10 percent of a country has disproportionate influence but whether a few individuals are “wolves in the fold”–literally making political decisions without accountability.

In fact, wealth inequality may have declined globally since 1980, but we now have about 2,500 billionaires who collectively own about $15 trillion, which is equivalent to the GDP of China (population 1.4 billion people). Some are uninvolved with politics, but a fair number either derive their wealth from government or buy political influence. I count at least 17 countries that have been directly led by billionaires in the last decade (not including the UK, since Rishi Sunak is only worth about $850 million). There are many other countries in which billionaires wield influence without holding office.

Above all, the President of the United States is a billionaire. His sidekick is more than a third of his way to being a trillionaire. The owner of The Washington Post is about a quarter of the way there.

This situation is not exactly unprecedented. John D. Rockefeller was worth about $1.4 billion in 1937. Measured in current dollars, his fortune rivaled Musk’s today. And the Rockefeller wealth transmuted into political power. Three descendants became governors; one was also a vice-president.

However, there are distinctively 21st-century ways in which private individuals sway national politics, here and overseas. Both Musk and Trump are celebrities with massive popular influence. They have millions of followers who treat their wealth as evidence of brilliance and superiority to government. They purchase impunity from almost all forms of accountability. And they enrich themselves at the expense of the government. As Jefferson writes, they “make interested uses of every right and power which they possess, or may assume.”

Google’s NGram tool suggests that the frequency of the word “oligarch” in printed books has risen 13-fold since the millennium (see above). This is just one sign that we are living in an age of oligarchy.

See also: why is oligarchy everywhere? and why is oligarchy everywhere? (part 2).

Carlo Crivelli, Lamentation

In every painting entitled “Lamentation” that I recall or can find with a Google image-search, Jesus lies prone, usually with a shroud behind him, and Mary looks downward at his limp body. She usually has companions: most often Mary Magdalen, because the relevant Gospel passages (e.g., Matt. 27:61) place the two women together from the Crucifixion to the empty tomb. (The specific moment of lamentation is not explicit in the Gospels.)

An exception is Carlo Crivelli’s Lamentation over the Dead Christ (1485) in the Museum of Fine Arts Boston. Crivelli shows Jesus’ body propped up so that he appears to look down at Mary with a gentle expression. Jesus’ hand has fallen so that it is on the same level as the hands of Mary and St. John and is intertwined with John’s in a rotationally symmetrical pattern. However, Jesus and John display opposite emotions: Jesus calm, John in anguish. Mary Magdalen’s hands help to support Jesus’ thigh so that his right foot appears to take a step.

To my eye, the color of Jesus’ body stands out more from the rest of the painting in the original than in the photo above (supplied by the MFA). Crivelli makes Jesus look animated and yet strikingly pallid.

The garland of fruit is a common motif in Crivelli’s work and seems to represent a local tradition in the region where he worked, the Marches, of hanging fruit above religious paintings during festivals. Crivelli–who favored trompe-l’oeil to the extent that Susan Sontag cited him as an example of “camp”–has incorporated this popular tradition into the painting. The garland includes a cucumber, which is so common in Crivelli’s work that it functions as a signature. The whole structure looks like a throne in the Netherlandish painting that Crivelli often imitated.

By making Jesus sit and appear to look down on Mary, and by intertwining his hands with the others’, Crivelli asks us to ponder the relationship between the living and the dead. In the Gospel account, Jesus will soon rise again. Nevertheless, he has died. It would be as much of a theological error to ignore the reality of his death as to deny his pending resurrection. I think that Mary Magdalen may be tempted by the former error as she tries to make his body move.

Katharine Bradley (1846-1914) and Edith Cooper (1862-1913) were partners in life and work who published joint poems under the pseudonym “Michael Field.” One of their poems describes a pietà by Carlo Crivelli–this one, if I am not mistaken. It is similar enough to the MFA’s Lamentation that some of their words apply to both paintings.

For instance, Michael Field writes: “His body, once blond, is soiled now and opaque / with the solemn ochres of the tomb.”

The poem implies that Mary Magdalen had found the living Jesus attractive. But now, “no beauty to desire / Is here–stiffened limb and angry vein.”

Yet there is such subtle intercourse between
The hues and the passion is so frank
One is soothed, one feels it good
To be of this little group
Of mourners close to the rank,
Deep wounds ...