Chapter 9
You Can Make a Difference
To prove your point, you get off the bus ten blocks from
your house and walk the rest of the way home in the rain. Better to get
soaked and ruin your new shoes than to have all those people staring at
you, thinking you were some kind of self-righteous goody-goody.
The Demise of Virtue
Ironically, "virtue" has gotten a bad name. I know itís
not cool or sophisticated to discuss virtue these days. To do so is to
seem old-fashioned, humorless, and conservative. But to understand why
you and I so often pass up the opportunity for heroism, it is important
to look virtue straight in the eye.
If you have any doubts about the unacceptability of virtue
today, try this experiment. The next time you are in a group of peopleóit
doesnít really matter if they are friends or strangersómake this announcement:
"I just wanted to remind everyone to be Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly,
Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent."
See how people react to that.
Whenever Iíve read that list to my college classes (sociologists
can do anything), Iíve noticed that my students fidget a lot, study their
fingernails, and pick lint off their clothes. Thereís something uncomfortable
about confronting such a heavy dose of virtue all at once, and I want to
look at why thatís so.
To begin, I think we could agree that virtually all the
individual characteristics making up the Scout Law are, on the whole, desirable
ones. Given the choice between entering into a business deal with someone
who is trustworthy versus someone who is untrustworthy, for example, I
suspect weíd both choose the former over the latter. Given the choice between
friends who defend us versus those who cut us down behind our backs, Iíd
guess that loyalty would pretty consistently win over disloyalty.
Lost in a strange city, I think both you and I would prefer
to have someone show us how to get where we wanted to go instead of making
an obscene gesture or pointing us toward the shortcut through Muggersí
Lane. Friendly, courteous, and kind people are surely more enjoyable to
be around than are hostile, rude, and cruel ones. By the same token, all
of us would prefer sitting down on an airplane beside someone basically
cheerful rather than someone intent on filling our airborne hours with
stories of how badly life had been treating him or her.
The notion of "obedience" is a little more problematic
because of the authoritarian-submissive connotations it sometimes carries.
Still, weíd probably agree that young children do well to obey their parents,
and employees have some obligation to do what their supervisors tell them
to do.
By the same token, we might not honor the image of the
miserly skinflint, but in general, responsible financial management is
to be preferred over mismanagement and bankruptcy.
I know that both you and I would rather walk down Muggersí
Lane with someone brave than with a coward. And while we might disagree
on how close cleanliness is to godliness, we would probably chooseóall
else equalócleanliness over filth.
And finally, we might have a discussion over the importance
of reverence as long as that was attached to specific religious rituals,
but I doubt that weíd have any trouble agreeing on the desirability of
a having a decent respect for our value and dignity as human beings.
In short, with the possibility of some minor quibbling
here and there, we could probably agree that the Boy Scout Law goes a long
way toward describing the qualities weíd value in associates. At the very
least, we could agree that each item is preferable to its opposite.
But suppose youíre at a party. Youíve gotten all dressed
up, and you look really good. Moreover, youíve worked hard at being an
intelligent conversationalist, discussing all the right topics knowledgeably
and expressing all the right opinions with conviction. You know youíre
doing great. Then, your host says "Oh, hereís someone I want you to meet."
You look up and there is the one. Bells ring, fireworks explode, a symphony
orchestra begins. This could be the person youíve been waiting for all
your life. I mean, this is Prince Charming or the Fairy Princess. Then
you host begins touting your virtues: trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendlyÖ.You
slowly die a thousand deaths. Itís worse than finding youíve got broccoli
in your teeth. As soon as you can escape your host, the first thing youíll
clarify is that you are not really like that.
The reason we donít want people to think weíre so virtuous
is because of how we despise virtuous people. Their virtues seem to highlight
all our own failures and shortcomings. While I regard myself as fundamentally
trustworthy, for example, if I became convinced that you were absolutely
trustworthy, you would be a constant reminder to me of all those times
I proved to be untrustworthy. Meeting you and being around you would lead
me to recall all those times I had broken my word, gone back on a promise,
or failed to meet an obligation. All that would bring up the uncomfortable
fear that perhaps Iím not really as trustworthy as I think I am. There
are two possible solutions to this problem.
First, I can put you down for being "too" trustworthy.
That is to say, you are too zealous about this trustworthy business, too
uptight. I suspect you probably donít have a sense of humor. Given your
rigid commitment to absolutes, you probably have authoritarian tendencies,
a closet fascist. Iíll bet your children donít really love you.
The second alternative is to discover youíre not as virtuous
as you pretend. This is better, actually. Nothing sells newspapers faster
than the exposure of self-righteous hypocrites. Itís always a comfort to
know that a wealthy person cheated to get ahead. If it had been only a
matter of hard work, you and I might feel lazy by comparison. When someone
rich and famous gets divorced, we can comfort ourselves in the righteousness
of having put our families ahead of success.
John Kennedy and his presidential Camelot made a lot of
people like us feel pretty lowly until we heard that he had been cheating
on Jackie. What a relief! Jimmy Carter was an even greater threat until
he confessed to lusting in his heart. That was better than nothing.
Blaine Harden suggests this pattern had been around for
a while.
Civilizations throughout history have taken perverse
delight in turning on heroes, holding them up to impossible standards,
digging up dirt about their private lives and concluding, after all, that
the hero is flawed and self-seekingócertainly no better than us.
The Hawaiians speak of a "crab-pot mentality" in this regard.
When Hawaiian fisherman go crabbing, they simply throw the crabs they catch
into a bucket. While you might wonder why the crabs donít crawl out of
the bucket, the Hawaiians learned long ago that there was no danger of
that. Whenever one crab reaches the lip of the bucket and starts to crawl
out, the other crab grabs itóseeking their own escapeóand, ultimately,
pull the leader back into the pot. While Hawaiians often criticize themselves
for having this "crab-pot mentality," it seems to be pretty fundamentally
human.
If you act on your opportunity for heroism, therefore,
if you choose to take personal responsibility for public affairs, about
the best you can expect is that youíll be despised for your apparent virtue.
More likely, however, others will deny your virtue altogether.
When Samantha Smith, the eleven-year-old from Maine, began
getting media coverage for her correspondence with Yuri Andropov, Nicholas
Daniloff labeled her a "Pawn in Propaganda War," in the conservative U.S.
News & World Report. In the liberal New Republic, on the other hand,
Charles Krauthammer would write, "I concede that Samantha is not a Communist
dupe. My question is: Who cares?"
My Motives Will Be Suspect
A few years ago, when I first ready something about the
Guardian Angels, my immediate thought was: "What a great idea." I was really
pleased that someone was doing what Curtis Sliwaís people were doing. Shortly
thereafter, I began reading negative reports about the Angels. In particular,
the press began suggesting that the Angels were only in it for the personal
glory. Sliwas was on an ego trip. The proof of this lay in the high public
visibility of the Angels, and Sliwa was characterized as a "publicity-seeker."
The later, negative reports were depressing to me. Like
many others, I suspect, I was disappointed that the Angels werenít what
they first seemed to be. I suppose I was mildly annoyed that I had been
taken in again by a slick con man. Iím sure I wasnít alone in those feelings.
Sometime later, however, the absolute absurdity of the
"publicity-seeking" charge hit me. As we saw in chapter 4, the purpose
of the Guardian Angels is to create a "visual deterrent" to street crime.
Their intention is to make it known that they will intervene in rapes,
muggings, and other street violence if they see it happening. Their presence
on the streetódramatized by their red berets and white T-shirtsóis a signal
that crimes could not be committed with impunity.
When I recalled this fundamental purpose of the Guardian
Angels, I immediately recognized the stupidity in the criticism of "publicity-seeking,"
Of course they wouldóand shouldóseek publicity. Otherwise, how could they
be a visual deterrent?
If you recall the movie Dr. Strangelove, you may recall
the ultimate, bizarre joke in the film. The Russians had created a Doomsday
Machine that would destroy the world if Russia were attacked. This has
been a semiserious fantasy for years among those who seek to achieve peace
through bigger bombs. The bizarre joke was that the Russians in the film
kept the Doomsday Machine secret. Having created the ultimate deterrent,
they didnít tell anyone.
Obviously, the alternative to "publicity-seeking" for
the Guardian Angels would be to hide in the shadows and hope for trouble.
Then they could spring into action and create the cycle of violence and
violent counter-violence that others have sometimes feared the Angels represented.
Virtually every publicized act of heroism will be regarded
by some as only publicity-seeking. There are two reasons for this. First,
you and I have lived through enough genuine publicity-seeking to be wary
of anything that may fit the pattern. Second, as Iíve pointed out repeatedly,
we have trouble believing anyone would simply do good. Automatically, we
ask, "Whatís in it for them?"
Near the head of the list of possibilitiesóalongside ego
tripping and publicity-seekingóis money. We have a treasury of cliches
to warn us that you canít get something for nothing, everybody is out for
number one, and so forth.
Thus, if you act on an opportunity for heroism, it is
likely that others will think you have some financial angle. When Werner
Erhard first initiated The Hunger Project, it was firmly believedóand proclaimedóin
some circles that he had found a way to make money out of the misery of
the worldís starving people. Years later, with a string of unqualified
financial audits and no evidence of wrong-doing, the criticism slowly faded
away, but Iím sure the suspicion remained for some. After all, why else
would anyone commit himself or herself to helping others?
The current state of American politics is such that it
is virtually impossible for a politician to do anything genuinely for the
public good without suffering snide rumors about his or her "true" motivesóusually
seen as seeking higher office. I do not mean to suggest that politicians
donít often behave as cynically and dishonestly as we tend to think they
do. The point is that you and I would have trouble recognizing a genuine
act of heroism if it appeared in the political arena.
When George Washington turned down the opportunity to
become king of the United States, saying we should be a republic rather
than a monarchy, I am certain there were some who were convinced that George
was working a special angle. And when he refuse a third term, saying the
presidency should circulate, there were some convinced that he had a better
offer from the colonial equivalent of Bechtel or Boeing.
The point of all this for our present discussion is that
you need to expect that your motives will be questioned and the worst thought
of you if you choose an act of genuine heroism. It might be useful, at
the same time, for you to be more conscious of your own reactions to the
heroism of others.
Itís Not My Responsibility
This is perhaps the most convincing reason of all for
not taking responsibility for public problems. If you didnít cause the
problem why should you solve it? In fact, somebody else is probably being
paid to solve such problems, as we saw in chapter 3. Itís simply not fair
to expect you to solve the problem.
If you take on a public problem, chances are that people
around you will assume you caused it. This was dramatically demonstrated
in the case of several student projects. One student was walking across
campus when he noticed a trash can with trash scattered on the ground around
it. He decided this was a good opportunity for his project. While he was
picking up the trash and putting it in the can, three strangers walked
past; one paused long enough to snap: "Clumsy!" Obviously he must have
made the mess, or why else would he be picking it up?
If you take on a public problem and can convince people
you didnít cause the problem, you are likely to be thought a fool for cleaning
up someone elseís mess. If the whole thing was your own idea, you are simply
weird. If you got the idea from someone else (from this book, for example),
you will be seen as having been duped or conned. You can expect to find
yourself described as naïve and unsophisticated for not seeing how
you have been taken in.
The fact that a particular public problem is not your
responsibilityóthat is, you didnít cause the problemóis a powerful reason
for doing nothing. You will need to rise above that reason if you are to
be a modern hero. Each of the heroes weíve considered in this book has
had to do that, however. Neither Rosa Parks nor Martin Luther King, Jr.,
started segregation in the South. Curtis Sliwa didnít cause street crime
in New York, any more than Beowulf caused Grendel to terrorize the castle.
Heroism requires taking responsibility for a problem you didnít cause.
I Donít Know What to Do
As we saw in chapter 3, life has gotten pretty complicated
in many of its aspects. Thus, there are surely many problems facing the
nation and the world that you are not equipped to solve. I would guess,
for example, that you donít know how to make nuclear power plants truly
safe (aside form shutting them down). Few of us have special expertise
in the realm of cleaning up chemical and nuclear wastes. "Not knowing what
to do," then, is an excellent reason for doing nothing. Like the other
barriers to public responsibility, however, it is simply a sellout of your
opportunity for heroism.
When you recognize a public problem and donít know how
to solve it, you can always demand that those "officially" responsible
do something. Consider the example of Judy Piatt, a Missouri horse-breeder.
After watching dozens of her horses die in agony, she became convinced
that the oil sprayed on her stable floor to keep the dust down was involved.
Piatt began following the trucks that delivered the salvage
oil and discovered a number of dangerous chemical dump sites. She sent
a list of the sites to state and federal officials. Nothing happened.
She persisted in her demands that action be taken, and
after a decade of her insistence, the federal government finally looked
into the matter. What they discovered has horrifying. The oil used to spray
the roads and private stables was routinely mixed with a sludge rich in
dioxin, one of the most toxic compounds on earth. Suddenly a national alert
was sounded to uncover and remedy dioxin sites throughout the South and
elsewhere in the country. There is no way to guess how many people are
alive today who would have died from dioxin poisoning if Judy Piatt had
let her lack of technical know-how stop her from taking responsibility
for what she perceived as a public problem.
At the very least, you can always make other people aware
of the problem you recognize. Even if you canít offer an easy solution,
you can draw attention to the problem and the need for a solution.
I May Make Things Worse
The only thing worse than not knowing what to do is thinking
you do when you donít. There is no end of stories about well-meaning people
who try to do good and inadvertently make matters worse. Seeking smoke
rising from the back of your neighborís house, you start spraying with
your garden hose and wipe out a barbeque party. All of us have made mistakesósome
big, some smallówhere our good intentions have gone awry, and such mistakes
often make us wary in the future.
Those scholars who study the operation of systems have
added to this fear through their research and through some of their concepts.
Thus, for example, the notion of "unintended consequences" points directly
to the heart of this problem. We take an action with a particular purpose
in mind, and, whether the action serves the intended purpose or not, it
can have other consequences we never imagined. There are numerous examples
from the field of national development.
Suppose you came across a developing country that lacked
effective sanitation systems, such that wastes were seeping into the drinking
water, causing death, and keeping death rates high. The obviously appropriate
action would be to improve the sanitation systems. If you were to do this,
as has been done in numerous nations around the world, water pollution
would be reduced (good), disease rates would decline (good), as would death
rates (good), except that population would then increase (bad), outstripping
food supplies (bad), and resulting in mass hunger and starvation (bad).
This scenario has been repeated in country after country.
To continue, letís take the example of a rural village
in a developing country where the local agriculture is simply insufficient
to support the population. Letís say that local farming methods are inefficient
and need upgrading. Children are going hungry and dying. The obvious solution,
from the standpoint of a rich and generous neighboring nation, would be
to provide emergency gifts of food to the village. This action would be
taken as a temporary measure, until the local farmers could begin producing
enough food for the local population. Unfortunately, the gift of free food
means that no one in the village will be interested in buying food from
the local growers, thereby destroying an already troubled industry.
In view of such situations, Professor Jay Forrester and
his "system dynamics" colleagues at MIT and elsewhere have coined the term,
"counter-intuitive reasoning." Since solutions to problems that seem intuitively
appropriate so often cause more problems than they solve, Forrester and
his colleagues argue that we must be willing to question what seems intuitively
correct and be able to move beyond it. For the system dynamicists, computer
simulation is the likely method for accomplishing this. By creating computer
models that behave like real-life processes, it is possible to make changes
to the computer model and see what happens in the long run, prior to taking
real-life actions that may be irreversible.
I say all of this to dramatize the power of "I might make
things worse" as a reason for doing nothing, as an excuse for turning away
from responsibility for social problems. Now, Iíd like to counter that
reason with two comments.
First, concepts such as "unintended consequences" and
"counter-intuitive reasoning" are intended to empower more effective action,
not to make us comatose. Our history of past mistakes should make us more
effective. Every mistake should add to our knowledge of what doesnít work,
so we donít have to make the same mistake again.
Second, picking up litter, calling the street department
to report a broken street sign, demanding that your senator do something
about nuclear wastesónone of these actions is likely to destroy the ecological
balance of nature.
I May Look Stupid
Not knowing what to do and the fear of making things worse
both have a common base that actually extends to most of the barriers to
taking responsibility for public problems. This is perhaps the foremost
obstacle to heroism: "I may look stupid."
In my observations of myself and other people, none of
us is terribly threatened by being stupid or doing stupid thingsóbut we
are terrified that others will think us stupid. I have done thousands of
stupid things that no one knows about (and Iíll never tell). For the most
part, Iíve totally forgotten about them. You probably have a similar list
of irrelevant past stupidities.
But when you step out of live and take on a public problem,
you expose yourself to public view and possible public ridicule. Suppose,
for example, you had learned about the rural village I mentioned earlieróthe
one whose agriculture couldnít support the local population. You might
have been deeply moved by the starving children, moved enough that you
could speak out in a public meeting and urge that the United States send
emergency food supplies. Someone more experienced than you in such matters
might point out the negative impact the gift would have on the local economy.
They might even add an observation about the danger that corrupt government
officials might siphon the food off into the black market, with the profits
going into their own pockets. You could look stupid and naïve, and
thatís a powerful reason for keeping your mouth shut.
Unfortunately, real heroism is inextricably linked to
the possibility of looking stupid. Thatís true of excellence in general,
however. Thereís an old baseball adage that says you canít steal second
without taking your foot off first. There are always risks, and we need
to weigh the potential costs and benefits.
Nothing I Do Makes a Difference
If all the barriers I have discussed above are the reasons
we donít accept opportunities for heroism when they arise, the box those
reasons come in is "Nothing I do makes a difference." In my view, this
is the primary tragedy of our time. I suggest that you and I live our entire
adult lives within the fundamental view that we do not make a difference.
This operates in all aspects of our lives, not just in the domain of personal
responsibility for public problems.
Every time you have broken your word, you have telegraphed
the view that you do not make a difference. So you said youíd come to a
dinner party, and then cancel at the last minute because you just donít
feel like going. Your cancellation says that your presence at the party
doesnít matter. People will get along just fine without you.
Any time you cut a class in school, you sent along a message
that your being there wouldnít have mattered. This applies equally to every
committee meeting you skipped, every place you didnít show up. The fact
that life proceeded without you probably justified your view, but it also
drove a secret stake into your heart.
This view of not making a difference, which most of us
are too polite to discuss, is compounded to the extent that you believe
others do make a difference. It parallels exactly the view that others
are perhaps more righteous than you, and the consequences are the same.
Our crab-pot mentality force us to drag others down, denying that they
make a difference either. Ultimately, we emasculate ourselves as a human
race.
I am neither prepared nor inclined to jack you up and
convince you that you really do make a difference. Ultimately, making a
difference is not a function of evidence, as much as we may seek it. It
is a function of personal declaration. You must choose for yourself whether
your life will be about making a difference or whether it will be about
getting by until you achieve the release of death.
Each of the heroes we have examined in this book has had
to make that declaration for himself or herself. Each has had to say, evidence
to the contrary perhaps, "I do and will make a differenceóbecause I say
so." Every morning for ten lonely years, Sidney Rittenberg awoke with the
crushing realization that he was still in prison. Every morning, he rededicated
his life to making a contribution to his planet. That is the fundamental
opportunity available to you right now, today, this minute. No matter how
many times you have passed up the opportunity in the past, that opportunity
for heroism persists. I invite you to take it.
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