A a general rule, I strongly oppose the kind of political analysis and argument that asks about the motivations of decision-makers. People’s motives are often mixed or downright mysterious, even to themselves. Motives may be irrelevant: politicians often do good things for selfish reasons and bad things with good intentions. When we look for leaders’ motives, we must rely on insiders (who are powerful and rarely trustworthy). They become authorities, and citizens are mere spectators. If, in contrast, we consider whether a policy is good or bad on its face, we can make up our own minds based on public documents and evidence. Finally, the search for motives in a second-term presidency is genuinely baffling. GW Bush cannot be reelected; he may not care particularly about the outcome of the 2008 election; his financial backers have no leverage over him; he may not trust the “history books” to treat him fairly, whatever he does. So what does he want? You can go crazy guessing.

The nomination of Harriet Miers is, unfortunately, something of an exception to the rule that we shouldn’t think about politicians’ motives. That is because of what my Maryland colleague and friend Mark Graber calls the information advantage: “What both John Roberts and Harriet Miers have in common is that the administration knows a lot more about them than the rest of us.” Graber subscribes to “a political regime theory of the judicial function. On this view, the constitution may be plausibly interpreted in different (not infinite) ways so presidents (and senators) are authorized by election to seek federal justices who share their constitutional vision.” If that’s the case, then it’s crucial for presidents or their nominees to explain their visions, so that we can hold them accountable at the next election. But Bush won’t say what his vision is, beyond uttering “cliches about modest justices and judicial restraint. In short, President Bush is clearly moving the court in a particular direction. He just isn’t telling us what that direction is other than vaguely conservative.”

Since we cannot debate Bush’s or Mier’s theory of the Constitution, which is unknown, all we can do is speculate about the president’s motives. The blogosphere is great for such speculation, and in this case, it provides many options. For example:

Jack Balkin: The ruling conservatives want policies friendly to business, meaning “stability, comfort, predictability, and an agile, productive, submissive and demobilized population.” They don’t really care about divisive social issues that might mobilize voters. Hariet Miers is a corporate lawyer. While she may vote conservatively on issues like abortion, she doesn’t have a big plan for moving the country rightward on those questions–and that’s fine with business and with George W. Bush.

Kevin Drum: The President wants to avoid a fight; he wants to “fold.” If he picked a well-known moderate, that would be folding too obviously. Harriet Miers, because she is a cipher with no relevant record, gives him the opportunity to back down without actually saying “uncle.” (The implication, which Drum doesn’t spell out explicitly, is that Bush would be disappointed and surprised if Miers made controversial decisions from the Court on his watch.)

GreyBlog (and others): Meiers is personally loyal to the president. Bush’s biggest concern is a Supreme Court case involving his administration, say, on a matter of corruption or something to do with presidential powers. Miers is a safe vote if his interests are at stake.

David Bernstein: The President’s priority is the War on Terror (including Guantanamo and the Patriot Act), just as FDR’s priority was the New Deal. Roberts, because of his appelate rulings, and Miers, because of her work in the Bush White House, seem two of the most likely candidates to uphold the Administration on those issues.

These are some of the most interesting theories, but there is also plenty of speculation that … Miers is willing to overturn Roe and Bush knows it; Miers is a relatively uncontroversial woman and Bush wants a female appointee; Miers is nice and respectful to Bush and he just likes her. Who knows, and–I would normally say–Who cares? But in this case, it seems impossible to have any more intelligent conversation than the snippets quoted above. It is now up to the Judiciary Committee to force Miers into a discussion of the Constitution, so that we can stop worrying about what GWB wants.

I was looking for a quote (which I didn’t actually find), and I ended up reading an entire account of William Penn’s trial in 1670. I believe the account–available with modernized English spelling on a University of Texas website–was written by Penn himself, so it is not unbiased. In fact, I find it somewhat hard to imagine that the wicked judge would actually mutter to himself, “Till now I never understood the Reason of the Policy and Prudence of the Spaniards, in suffering the Inquisition among them: And certainly it will never be well with us, till something like unto the Spanish Inquisition be in England.” Nevertheless, the story makes gripping theater and has contemporary resonance. (I recommend skimming until p. 4, where the action really starts.)

For background: Penn (a Quaker) had been preaching in violation of the Conventicle Act, which forbade “all meetings of more than five persons beyond a household, if any, for worship other than that prescribed by the Liturgy.” The Sheriff of London and other authorities were afraid to charge Penn under the Act, lest it be overturned. Instead, they arrested him and William Mead on undisclosed charges. The two Friends were subjected to Newgate Prison’s “Bale-dock, and Nasty-hole, nay, the menace of a Gag, and Iron Shackles too.” They were brought before a Middlesex (London) jury. The trial itself shed no light on whether the defendants had broken any law, but it did (according Penn’s account) involve such entertaining exchanges as the following:

Clark: Bring William Penn and William Mead to the Bar.

Mayor: Sirrah, who bid you put off their Hats? Put on their Hats again.

Observer [Penn himself]: Whereupon one of the Officers putting the Prisoners Hats upon their Heads (pursuant to the Order of the Court) brought them to the Bar.

Recorder: Do you know where you are?

Penn: Yes.

Recorder: Do not you know it is the King’s Court?

Penn: I know it to be a Court, and I suppose it to be the King’s Court.

Recorder: Do you not know there is Respect due to the Court?

Penn: Yes.

Record: Why do you not pay it then?

Penn: I do so.

Record. Why do you not pull off your Hat then?

Pen: Because I do not believe that to be any Respect.

Record: Well, the Court sets forty Marks a piece upon your Heads, as a Fine for your Contempt of the Court.

Penn: I desire it might be observed, that we came into the Court with our Hats off (that is, taken off) and if they have been put on since, it was by Order from the Bench; and therefore not we, but the Bench should be fined.

The judge demands that the jury find Penn guilty, although without stating the charges. Penn makes a stirring defense of the jurors’ rights as Englishmen. I won’t spoil the suspense by relating the conclusion, in case you don’t happen to know what happened. The official US Court system website provides a summary of the whole event that concludes–rather surprisingly–with a positive account of jury nullification.

In a recent post, I took issue with an op-ed that Tom Sander and Robert Putnam had written in the Washington Post. I thought they were arguing that 9/11 had caused young people’s values to change, and as a result young adults had become more involved in civic life, broadly defined. I suspect, in contrast, that what matters is the opportunity and the invitation to participate, not one’s values. Thus 9/11 wouldn’t matter unless it caused adults to create more civic opportunities for youth. I cannot prove this thesis, and in fact I am currently seeking money for a longitudinal study to test it. In any case, Tom Sander has replied to my blog, noting correctly that I had misread aspects of his original op-ed. He and Putnam did not claim that 9/11 changed values, leading to more volunteering. Instead, they believe that 9/11 helped to increase interest in politics and discussion of current events–which I find quite plausible. Sander and Putnam have adopted a subtle position for which there is some evidence (although I wonder why youth turnout declined slightly in 2002, if interest in politics was up). Anyway, I don’t want to confuse the major question–“Values or opportunities?”–by misrepresenting anyone’s views.

Incidentally, the following article is relevant:

Edward Metz and James Youniss, “September 11 and Service: A Longitudinal Study of High School Students’ Views and Responses” Applied Developmental Science, 2003, Vol. 7, No. 3, Pages 148-155. This is a “study of a suburban public high school near Boston. … Results from our pre-post measures revealed only an immediate increase in students’ political interest and no changes in intended civic participation. Descriptive findings showed that most students’ view of the world was changed after 9/11. Yet, fewer students reported that their view of themselves had changed. … Statistical analyses showed that students who organized service had enhanced and sustained levels of intended civic participation compared to students who responded through other means or not at all.”

Over the weekend, both the New York Times and the Washington Post marked Sept. 11 with stories about a resurgence of civic engagement among American young people. The Post gave Harvard’s Thomas Sander and Robert Putnam space to argue that “a renewed commitment to civic engagement among a crucial segment of the population”–young people–“has resulted from the “horrible event” of 9/11. For evidence, the authors relied on the latest HERI surveys of incoming college freshmen, which reveal big increases in volunteering, plus the turnout surge in the 2004 election. Meanwhile, the Times ran a news story by Alex Williams entitled “Realistic Idealists” that described some super-volunteers–like 13-year-old Hazel, who created a 3,000-volume library for a homeless shelter. Williams writes, “Hazel is at the leading edge of a generation whose sense of community involvement was born four years ago on Sept. 11, 2001. The attacks spurred an unprecedented outpouring of donations and volunteerism from Americans.”

I never miss an opportunity to emphasize the idealism and civic creativity of today’s young people. There are reasons, however, to doubt that 9/11 had a meaningful effect. At CIRCLE, we tend to explain the turnout increase as a result of feverish efforts to mobilize youth–although, to be sure, younger citizens were following current events more closely than usual in 2004, and one reason could be that 9/11 had caught their attention. Our own surveys found that adolescents were “all dressed up with nowhere to go” in 2002-4. That is, they expressed a heightened commitment to volunteering and other forms of participation, but they had no more than the usual opportunities.

Which brings me to the difference between Robert Putnam and Jim Youniss, some of whose views I mentioned here last week. For Putnam, values (such as trust, connectedness, and responsibility) underlie actions. For Youniss and colleagues, values tend to arise from participation, and what causes participation is (mainly) the opportunity to do something. If Youniss is right, then any effect of 9/11 on youth civic engagement would be indirect. Perhaps young leaders and adults responded to the attacks by creating venues for other young people to serve.

Another controversy is buried in the article by Sander and Putnam. Many people argue that 9/11 increased people’s sense of connectedness (especially in New York City) but did little to enhance their capacity to solve public problems together. A national survey that CIRCLE released in 2002 found that many Americans of all ages volunteered, at least occasionally, but only 20 percent of the volunteers (and 10 percent of young volunteers) described their participation as a way to address a ?social or political problem.? Putnam’s own writing immediately after the 9/11 attacks was surprisingly apolitical; he seemed to be arguing that it would be good if people trusted one another more and cared more for others, but he said little about people’s capacity for collective problem-solving. (I have written before about such apolitical notions of “social capital.)

I receive relatively few comments per visitor on this blog, but some very thoughtful responses do appear, often buried deep in the archives. Today, I’d like to mention a few.

1. The rationale for business schools. In January 2004, I asked whether “business schools belong in universities.” My thought was: business schools do not provide independent, critical views of the pros and cons of business, as political science departments debate the pros and cons of government and politics. Nor do they prepare graduates for professions that license people to practice in return for adherence to elaborate ethical codes. (Compare schools of medicine and law.) Instead, business schools provide practical training that has direct economic value for each graduate. Should this kind of education be subsidized by the state and protected by tenure and peer-review, or would it be better offered by the marketplace? David Jacobs and Hugh Wilmott, two professors of business or management, have similar concerns, and both point me to resources on “critical management studies.”

2. The press, moral standing, and an anti-gay preacher. Much more recently, I asked whether television news stations and the Washington Post were justified in camping outside a church to see whether a minister (and former mayoral candidate) would apologize for anti-gay remarks. I wanted to emphasize that the press exercises power when it demands a response from an individual, and that power (while protected by the First Amendment) deserves moral scrutiny. Even if someone says a very bad thing, it doesn’t follow that he ought to be forced to apologize–or say “no comment”–on live TV. However, arguments by Mike Weiksner and Richard Russo have persuaded me that I picked a bad example. Given Rev. Wilson’s public role in our city, it’s appropriate for the press to hold him accountable. (I’ll also take this opportunity to emphasize that I personally abhor what he said–but that’s a different issue.)

3. “Democracy” or “civic renewal”? Harry Boyte of the University of Minnesota is a major influence on this blog and all my work. He responded recently to my series of posts about the civic renewal movement. His response is characteristically rich and provocative; I’ll consider some of his themes in subsequent entries. However, one of his suggestions is quite straightforward. The movement I describe, he says, should be named a struggle for “democracy.” That is a word with deep roots and broad, international appeal. “Civic renewal,” in contrast, sounds narrow and a bit obscure.

I agree with this, although I think I’ll continue to talk about “civic renewal” myself. That’s because “democracy” is such a broad term that it covers all kinds of things I disagree with, including the invasion of Iraq. While we should try to reclaim the best aspects of the word “democracy,” I don’t have enough influence to make much of a difference in how it’s used. I like “civic renewal” because anyone who understands it at all knows what it means; it unambiguously names work that I support. But I’d be happy if our work in favor of “civic renewal” fed a movement for “democracy.”