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Friday, November 22, 2024

The danger of thankfulness

     Years ago I took part in a simulation exercise ("game") called, if I recall, "Starpower." The purpose of the game was to illustrate the dynamics of inequality and social class.

     Each of us participants was issued an envelope with tokens of some type. Some tokens were worth $25, some were worth $10, and some were worth $2. The tokens were spread around randomly among the participants. We were then told to bargain with one another for something--I forget what we were trying to "buy" with the tokens.

     I had more than my share of $25 tokens, and I was able to bargain very successfully. I remember very clearly my emotional response to the situation. I felt blessed. God had been good to me.

     Then I reflected. My blessedness was the result of random chance. I did nothing to "deserve" my advantage. God had nothing to do with my success.                                                                                                                                                                          

     The media I watch and listen to--mostly public broadcasting (PBS) and National Public Radio (NPR)--are making me aware of what is happening as I write this: in Gaza, in southern Lebanon, and in Haiti. In these places people are seeing their homes destroyed, husbands and fathers killed in front of their families, women raped, and everyone lacking sanitation, health care, and even food and water. Here I am, living quietly in Quincy, Illinois. The trees have just shed their beautiful leaves, and people are preparing for Thanksgiving travel and Thanksgiving dinners. I am blessed.

     But what did I do to deserve this? Why was I not born in Gaza or Haiti?

     True, my parents worked to create a home where I could grow up healthy and without violence. What did they do to deserve the advantages that allowed them to raise me?

     Those gifts to them and to me were not only blessings from God. Many people contributed to those blessings. People left their homes in Europe and began new lives in this country. The men and women who founded this country struggled to set up a constitution that would "make it easier for people to live good lives" (to quote, I believe, Peter Maurin, Dorothy Day's colleague in founding the Catholic Worker movement). A fair amount of struggle against violence and injustice made our "American" way of life possible.

     We all get used to things. We get used to our advantages, and soon we think it is normal for us to be advantaged, and that somehow that's the way things ought to be. We come to see ourselves as virtuous, and as blessed.  If we want to feel pleased and grateful, we see our blessedness as caused by our virtue.

     The danger is that we then begin to see other people's lack of blessedness as the result of their lack of virtue. That allows us to ignore them and to neglect seeing ways that our blessedness might have contributed to their troubles.

     Some politicians can accuse us of being "woke" when we talk about such things. But that is the kind of wokeness that Jesus and the Old Testament prophets tried to create in us.

     So in this Thanksgiving season, I am going to be grateful for the blessings I enjoy, but along with my gratitude I hope to be compassionate toward people who do not have the same blessings I have. I will think about how "but for the grace of God" I might have been in their shoes.

     Such thoughts might make me feel warm and cozy. But my mind must roam further and explore the stories of how some nations came to be poor and some nations to be rich. Sin may have played a part in creating my blessedness.

 

 

 

 


Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Machines and Games

 

        My recent reflections about "saintly institutions" got me recalling some old ideas from my sociology teaching days.

        The intro soc textbooks typically said that there were three or four lines of theory in sociology: functionalism, symbolic interactionism, conflict theory (Marxism), and rational choice theory. I thought that the last two could be considered sub-forms of the first two, which is not something that I want to go into here. I want to focus on the first two.

        Functionalist theory uses a living organism as the metaphor for how societies should function. Living organisms have structures like skeletons and circulatory systems, and each structure has a function. For example, the skeleton helps the organism  hold together, and the circulatory system nourishes the cells in the organism.

        An organism is just a highly developed machine. It is deterministic. When it is stimulated in a certain way, it responds in a certain way. If something from outside disrupts one of its functions, it corrects the disruption (homeostasis).

        The organic metaphor sees society as a set of structures (rules and laws). Each rule has a function. If we design the rules well, the organism will function well. When things aren’t going well, we revise the law. Our law library shelves get longer and longer, and we need more and more lawyers to navigate what we have created. Even behaviors that are not covered in the law books can lead to lawsuits, which means more lawyers and more restrictions on what we can do.

        The second line of theory is labeled "symbolic interactionism." Its defining metaphor is the game. The people playing the game make the rules, and most players obey the rules. When a lot of them don't obey, the players change the rules or create handicaps. This theory says that there are no divinely-sanctioned rules for living--all moral rules are arrived at by group consensus. This goes against my Catholic tradition, but I point to areas where my Catholic tradition has had to change what it considered "natural." For centuries the church forbade "usury," taking interest on loans. Somewhere around the 1500s it abandoned that moral principle. Somewhat later it quit accepting slavery as a permissible moral practice. Recently a top church authority (Pope St. John Paul II) said that capital punishment is immoral, a judgment echoed by most church authorities these days, in spite of widespread U.S. Catholic belief that it is still permissible.

        In other words, the Catholic community has changed its rules.

        An institution such as "the economy" is a set of games. When I said that no institution is saintly, I was saying that no institution operates like a machine. We cannot design an economy so that it will always operate with justice. When we try to do that, we can change the rules, and in the back of our mind we can hope that one more tinkering with the rules will make the machine automatically produce justice. But it won't. We are in a game, and there will always be some people who will break the rules. We can punish the rule-breakers (sinners), or we can hold back on the punishment (forgiveness) and consider modifying the rules to make the playing field more fair.

        In practice, both theories appear similar, but they differ in how we make moral judgments on their basis. If we believe that there are divinely authorized rules (natural law), then we see rule-breakers as worthy of punishment, and if punishment does not work, worthy of exclusion from society. ("Lock 'em up and throw away the key.") We tell ourselves that our punishment (prison) is remedial--we want prisoners to be rehabilitated so they can return to society as fully-functioning participants, but in most places we cannot find the resources needed to practice rehabilitation alongside punishment. Prisons in most places are designed for punishment, period. If there is rehabilitation, somebody is going beyond what the "correctional" institution is capable of. Such people are to be applauded, but the correction system cannot do more than punish.

        If we see our institutions as games, we are more open to modifying the rules without excluding rule-breakers from future play. We punish rule-breakers, but always with the assumption that the rulebreakers are just like us, and forgiving their violation may be better than punishing them. They may even be prophets calling us to make the game more fair. They are part of "us," not a cancer on the body politic.

        Our economic rules do need serious modifying. Most of us admit that the middle class has been shrinking, and that it is getting harder and harder to find decent housing, and affordable food and transportation. This is why we elected Donald Trump.

        Mr. Trump's backers are not likely to be open to changing any rules that will make the game more fair for people below them on the economic scale. They will say that the economy is a machine, and is working just fine. Rising tides lift all boats. Except that they don't. They will resist the idea that the game is set up so that more and more people cannot win. If they do not adjust the rules, the players will take their marbles and go home. They will abandon the game. They could vote Mr. Trump and his allies out in the next election, or they might decide that democracy will never work and turn to violent ways to get what they think is fairness. 

        In fairness to Mr. Trump, the Democrats have been no more likely to welcome changing the rules than backers of Mr. Trump. Voters have recognized this, and have punished the Democrats.

        To recap: our institutions are not saintly; people keep breaking the rules. There is no perfect structure that will prevent that. We should look at our institutions as games that require fair rules if we want people to keep playing them. Rule-breakers are not all evil, worthy of hell-fire. They are people like us, who want to play in our games. We should welcome them and listen to them. There will always be some people who will push the limits and break the rules, but when we decide that there are too many such people, we will change the rules of the game.