Monthly Archives: March 2005

New York

I was in New York City today on business. My meetings were good, but draining; they have left me too tired to write anything of much substance. Waiting at La Guardia for the shuttle back to DC, I’m remembering how I spent some spare minutes during the day: gawking at the midtown skyscrapers, admiring the murals in Rockefeller Center and the interior of St. Patrick’s, watching the skyline from Queens, and (best of all) visiting Christie’s auction house. Asian objects were on sale, including Samurai armor, Indian statues from the 2-3rd century AD (carved under heavy Greek influence), and a huge, serene Buddha. The showroom looked exactly like a museum, except that people were handling the objects, peering into the ancient Chinese vases, stroking Khmer statuettes, rotating porcelein busts on their bases–just like the shoppers across the street at Gap.

high schools in a high-risk era

(Macon, Georgia) At last weekend’s meeting, we discussed economic insecurity and its effects on young people. Many high school students believe (whether or not it’s true) that their lifetime prospects of earning satisfactory wages depend on their climbing as high as possible on a ladder that ascends from their local community college to the branch campus of their state university, on to the flagship state school and regional private colleges, and then all the way up to the summits of Harvard and MIT. Their sense of insecurity and omnipresent risk (some scholars argue) leads to a “rat-race” mentality in which everything they do only matters if they can put it on their resumes and use it for admission to college. They feel compelled to obtain marks of success that they can advertise. They see other students as competitors and doubt that local groups and networks have much value.

To the extent that these generalizations apply, they could help to explain some well-documented findings: young people have low and declining trust for their peers and they are less likely to join formal voluntary groups than in the past. Increasing numbers of adolescents report that they volunteer, but often their participation is episodic (see pdf); and many cannot explain to interviewers why they serve. Some admit that they are basically “padding” their resumes. There may be a sense of hollowness in today’s adolescence, as if what you do when you’re 16 is simply practice–a competitive “try-out”–for life that really begins after graduation.

Any change in this situation would presumably require economic growth, greater financial security, and more sharing of risk. After all, real family income has been basically flat since the early 1970s, and families are shouldering more individualized risk as unions shrink and health coverage gets worse. These trends could have negative effects on adolescents’ sense of security, mutual trust, and concern for their communities.

I’m afraid there is not much that I can do (or participate in doing) that can mitigate such pervasive social problems. However, I am trying to become involved in the debate about high school reform, and lately I’ve wondered whether comprehensive reform might make a positive difference. After all, today’s large, anonymous high schools are relentless sorting mechanisms. Their wide variety of courses, extracurricular activities, and social groups create numerous internal competitions and hierarchies. Students are left to make their own choices among these offerings. If they aren’t ambitious enough, then they cannot ascend very high on the college hierarchy; but it’s just as damaging if they aim too high and get poor grades. Since young people see their performance as having dire economic consequences, they agonize about how to make themselves look successful.

Again, the high school “rat-race” is largely a phenomenon of increased insecurity and individualized risk in the broader economy. Nevertheless, it seems possible that students would feel more comfortable and fulfilled if they attended small high schools with coherent, required curricula, lots of opportunities for participation in diverse groups, partnerships with adult institutions, and guidance from teachers who knew them as individuals. These are hallmarks of whole-school reform.

two levels of politics

(Macon, Georgia.) I have been recalling the conversations last Friday and Saturday at Catholic University, especially some comments by Lew Friedland and Carmen Sirianni. The following is my own view, but I believe it’s generally consonant with theirs.

We need two levels of politics. One involves major policy issues, the kind of questions that are ultimately decided by legislative votes, court decisions, and referenda. In considering these issues (e.g., taxation, welfare, war, or the right to abortion), people fall into ideological groups that are represented by major organizations and parties. Voting is a citizen’s main source of power. Debating, organizing, petitioning, and raising consciousness are important, but they count only insofar as they change votes. Free and fair elections are what make this level of politics democratic.

Politics at the macro-level can sometimes be “win-win” and creative. Wise legislation and competent public administration can make everyone better off. Nevertheless, a lot of macro-level politics is zero-sum, because (for example) a victory for abortion rights is a loss for abortion opponents–and vice-versa. Indeed, this level of politics should be competitive, because tough competition between parties and ideologies gives citizens choices and keeps incumbents honest. Besides, when parties are forced to compete, they mobilize ordinary people to engage as voters and activists; thus competition encourages participation. Perhaps the worst flaw in today’s macro-politics is a lack of fair competition caused by gerrymandered electoral districts, incumbents’ advantages in campaign finance, and various impediments to insurgent campaigns and movements.

There is another level of politics–most common at the local level and within institutions–that involves direct participation. At this level, many of the people who will be directly affected by a decision should personally participate in deliberations about it. For example, before a religious congregation makes a major financial decision, often the whole group discusses it. Furthermore, there is no need to isolate discussion from action at this level of politics. The same people who meet and talk about an issue can also implement their own decisions. A student government can decide to implement a mentoring program and then actually serve as the mentors. A neighborhood group can decide to protest a crackhouse and then actually picket it. An academic department can choose a new curriculum and then actually teach it.

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environmentalism and human creativity

(Macon, Georgia) A lot of the environmentalist rhetoric that filters down to a person like me (who’s not terribly attentive to the environment) emphasizes the need to preserve gifts of God or nature: unspoiled places, endangered species, and non-renewable resources. These are important goals, and they imply a set of aesthetic, moral, and/or religious principles that I respect. For example, if something is scarce, complex, and impossible to recreate, then we should try to preserve it, whether it is a forest ecosystem or a human language.

There is also a kind of environmentalism in which concerned people work together to make things: for instance, new parks and forests or restored and restocked rivers and lakes. These are not pure and unsullied gifts of God or nature; they are assets that people have helped to build and shape.

It would be useful, I think, to develop a rhetoric that celebrates these accomplishments, appreciating the constructive role of human beings in creating habitats and ecosystems. I would support that rhetoric as a matter of principle, since I admire human agency. Besides, there is something pessimistic or even tragic about environmentalism conceived as a rearguard effort to save pieces of unsullied nature. After all, non-renewable resources will sooner or later run out, and unspoiled wilderness (if there is any such thing) will inevitably be altered by human behavior. The best we can do to preserve such things is not to touch them, which is a passive stance. If we could learn, on the other hand, to admire human agency in creating environments that have natural elements, then there would be no limit to what good we could do together. This optimism might be the basis of a powerful political movement.

conference on youth civic engagement

I’m spending today and tomorrow at the Life Cycle Institute, Catholic University. Jim Youniss of Catholic and I have jointly planned and organized a conference on youth civic engagement that aims to make the “institutional turn” that I’ve written about before. Usually, when we discuss why young people don’t vote or follow the news, we think in terms of what’s going on inside their heads–their knowledge, motivations, habits, or feelings of confidence. Thanks to a grant from Carnegie Corporation of New York, Jim and I have convened about 20 of our most admired psychologists, political scientists, sociologists, and communications scholars to discuss a different question: how changes in major institutions may be causing young people not to participate in democracy.