The White House has released its Open Government directive (PDF), an order from the Director of the Office of Management and Budget to all federal agencies concerning “openness.” It is a step toward implementing the President’s Memorandum on Transparency and Open Government, which he signed on his first day in office. I hope it is only a first step because the President’s Memorandum was broad and inspiring, and this Directive seems narrow.

The focus of today’s order is transparency: publishing government information online and improving the quality of that information. It’s hard to argue against those goals since we citizens have a right to know what our government does. It’s also plausible that transparency reduces corruption and enhances the quality and efficient of government. (“Sunlight is the best disinfectant,” said Louis Brandeis.)

But this strategy has severe limitations. After all, we citizens already have access to enormous reams of data about the government (but much less about corporations and other powerful private actors). When the volume of data is overwhelming, interest groups and the professionals whom they employ can use the data selectively to advance their agendas. At the same time, the press can comb through the information looking for embarrassing stuff–which is helpful to the extent that their scrutiny reduces corruption, but bad if they just paint a misleading overall picture.

Consider, for example, the way that Politico chose to report the newly accessible data on Congressional office expenses. Their headline was: “Nancy Pelosi spends $2,993 on flowers.” But $300 million of spending had just been disclosed, and Politico didn’t choose to tell us how the other 99.999002% of our money was spent. Did most of it go for staff? If so, what jobs do they do? Evidently, Politico thought that itemizing Nancy Pelosi’s flower bill was the way to get readers.

Again, it’s hard to argue that we shouldn’t have access to information about Congressional office expenses. We have a right to know about Congress and about executive agencies (which are the addressees of today’s Directive). But I am unconvinced that much good will come of this disclosure.

Meanwhile, the “collaboration” and “participation” aspects of the president’s original memorandum were extremely promising. Real participation by citizens and real collaboration with nonprofits and communities would change government and enhance civic skills. But those sections of today’s Directive are very short and vague, and the concrete passages disappoint me. For instance:

• “The Plan should include descriptions of and links to appropriate websites where the public can engage in existing participatory processes of your agency.”
• “The Plan should include proposals to use technology platforms to improve collaboration among people within and outside your agency.”
• “The Plan should include innovative methods, such as prizes and competitions, to obtain ideas from and to increase collaboration with those in the private sector, non-profit, and academic communities.”

I predict that organized stakeholders will dominate open online forums and will win most of the prizes and competitions, leaving most Americans with no new ways to participate. But I could certainly be wrong, and I hope I am. I also look forward to future initiatives, because I assume that the original Memorandum remains a promise that can inspire further action.

For a forthcoming Handbook on Civil Society, I have committed to write the article on “civil society and social knowledge.” I may ask to change that title because I find, via Google, that “social knowledge” is commonly used in three ways that should not be the focus of my article for this Handbook. The phrase often means: (1) the knowledge that small children must acquire in order to be “social”; (2) the production of knowledge through social software, such as Wikipedia; or (3) the epistemological theory that knowledge is not objective but is “socially constructed” (a theory which I think is often grossly exaggerated, because facts are stubborn things).

I think the basic questions for my article should be:

• What do most people (as individuals) need to know to make civil society work well? For instance, they might need to know their own rights, that others have rights, and which voluntary associations exist.

  The knowledge that citizens need to participate in civil society depends on (a) what we consider the proper role for civil society, and (b) what skills and dispositions are needed on a large scale to secure that kind of society. Answers to part (a) would differ greatly between libertarians and socialists, to name just two examples. Part (b) is empirical, but it depends on the preliminary question of what makes a good society.

  Political scientists and theorists who have endorsed de Tocqueville’s basic account of a good democratic system for the United States (i.e., one that is protective of individual rights and cultural diversity, decentralized, capitalistic, and moderately egalitarian) have assembled empirical evidence that certain values and skills are necessary, or at least helpful, to such a society. For example, Verba, Schlozman, and Brady (1995) identify the disposition to attend meetings where decisions are made, the skills necessary to function effectively in such meetings, and knowledge of how to convene such meetings as examples of valuable civic skills.

• What do some people need to know (as individuals) to make civil society work well? Some people might need to know how to organize social movements or how to change policy through litigation. How many people need to know these things is a related question.
• What should be known collectively to make a good civil society? For instance, no individual knows the whole history of a community, but it is good for the historical records and numerous narratives and interpretations of the community’s history to exist and to be accessible.
• What knowledge does civil society generate? Much knowledge is created collectively–that is how science works, for instance. But I think the knowledge created by civil society is different, because everyone can participate in civil society by virtue of being a citizen, whereas scientists are defined by special skills, tools, and credentials.

  So what knowledge can everyone participate in creating through the associations of civil society? Michael Sandel famously wrote, “When politics goes well, we can know a good in common that we cannot know alone.” Sandel argued, and I agree, that the characteristic knowledge that we must obtain together is moral knowledge, knowledge of the good. We need others to know the good because moral judgments are heavily experiential, any individual’s perspective is biased, and there is no impartial algorithm or method that can identify the good. (Thus Sandel is a critic of utilitarianism and mainstream Kantianism, both of which propose such a method.)

Our 10-year-old can decide whether to study Chinese, Latin, French, or Spanish in school, repeating a choice that our older kid got to make some years ago (minus the Chinese option). In my own childhood, I studied Latin and French and have since added some other languages, although none to a level of mastery. My school friends and I almost all chose French over Spanish. Perhaps part of the reason was that we lived near Quebec and very far from Mexico, and there were hardly any Latino immigrants that far north in those days. But the main reason was that French seemed to define a certain level of educational attainment (and therefore class status), not only for Americans, but for many people around the world.

I’m glad I learned French. It’s a beautiful language, and I’ve had opportunities to read some literature in the original language and to spend time in francophone countries. These are mind-broadening experiences. But of course Spanish is also beautiful; there is more excellent literature in Spanish than one could read in a lifetime; and numerous countries speak Spanish. The same could be said of Chinese. The main reason we all chose French, I must admit, was to join a global class of people for whom French was an expected part of an education. This expectation began with the diplomatic dominance of France from the 17th to the 19th century, but its legacy lasted long after Napoleon, because once a language is a common expectation, it pays to acquire it. By the time I was born, English was far more widely spoken and useful than French, but French remained a privileged second language in anglophone countries. Often, French passages in Russian novels and French dishes on restaurant menus were left untranslated because the sophisticated reader was supposed to understand them in the original.

Pierre Bourdieu is the theorist of such “cultural capital.” (By the way, you can read him in English.) He explains how relatively arbitrary bodies of knowledge become markers of status. For cosmopolitans of relatively high socioeconomic standing, knowledge of French has been part of the habitus. I believe that today the privileged position of French is slipping, although it may still have some force. I also believe in making choices for ethical reasons, not to maximize one’s own cultural capital. Thus, on balance, I would probably choose Spanish or Chinese if I were ten, although not without a sense that I was missing a key to the kingdom if I didn’t learn French.

In the Sunday Times, Tom Friedman lists some of our grievous national problems and concludes:

The standard answer is that we need better leaders. The real answer is that we need better citizens. We need citizens who will convey to their leaders that they are ready to sacrifice, even pay, yes, higher taxes, and will not punish politicians who ask them to do the hard things. Otherwise, folks, we’re in trouble. A great power that can only produce suboptimal responses to its biggest challenges will, in time, fade from being a great power–no matter how much imagination it generates.

I agree with that and have staked my whole career on this premise. But how do you get “better citizens”? Probably the most common answer is somehow to send people better messages: broadcast shows, ads, news articles, or speeches that are more accurate, complete, informative, and motivating. Since most actual messages are delivered by the mass media (and most serious observers from across the spectrum hold the mass media in contempt), another prevalent answer is to criticize or–ideally–to reform the media.

I am basically skeptical of this diagnosis and strategy. A large and diverse population can choose among a vast array of media sources, most of which survive by selling advertising. This audience varies a great deal in ideology, and also in knowledge and interest; but the average level of interest in serious public affairs is not high. Inevitably, the media fragment, pursue niche audiences, and provide a great deal more entertainment than news. Even the most ambitious reform proposal–a kind of BBC for the United States, with a nonpartisan board and lots of public money–would have a limited impact on the whole landscape. (The BBC’s flagship “News at Ten” draws about 10 percent of the British population.) I know many people who hold Fox News responsible for bad aspects of our politics. But I see that channel less as a cause than an outcome of public tastes and values, plus media fragmentation. Conservatives who are frustrated by the “liberal media” should feel the same way about their least favorite channels.

To put the problem more concretely: I don’t think you can send a sufficiently powerful “message” to promote good citizenship (even if your name happens to be Barack Obama), because you’ll be competing with far too many other messages in an astoundingly crowded market driven by pre-existing motivations and tastes.

I therefore work on two alternatives:

1. Get them while they’re young, receptive, and a captive audience. Build really engaging, unbiased, motivating, and informative civic education into the school curriculum. My blog posts categorized as advocating civic education and a high school civic curriculum are about that.

2. Reform institutions so that hands-on participation by ordinary adults is welcomed and rewarding. The theory is that people who see tangible impact from their own civic engagement (mainly at the local level) will want to be informed and to exchange ideas and perspectives with people different from themselves. My blog posts about deliberation and civic reform are about that.

I welcome Friedman’s conclusion but wish he would get behind concrete solutions.

(On a flight from Miami to Boston) I have a budding friendship with the airport taxi dispatcher in Watertown, MA. A TSA guy at Logan has recognized me: “You’re the one with the DC driver’s license.” This fall, I’ve gone as far as Birmingham and Miami and back, each in a day. I know how to pick a seat on the Washington shuttle to maximize the chance of a view down the National Mall without obstruction from the wing.

I may be traveling a bit too much.