The dying art of civil civics

I first ran across “Timely Tips for Having a Civil Political Conversation” four years ago, and thought it was important then; when Terry Paulson wrote, “the shrill and explosive nature of the comments made about this election make serious political dialogue in America difficult at best,” I could only agree. Four years later, it’s only gotten worse. Despite the issues that divide us, I truly believe that if folks would take Dr. Paulson’s advice to heart and follow it, we’d all be a lot better off.Of course, to do that requires humility and the willingness to respect those who hold positions with which we disagree; and a lot of folks find that hard, and far too many dogmatically reject the idea. As Dr. Johnathan Haidt has pointed out, doing that requires people to be able “to project themselves into the minds of their opponents and answer questions about their moral reasoning,” and some people find that very difficult.

Final word for the night on poverty

Jared weighed in earlier today with an excellent practical suggestion of what we might do to alleviate global poverty one person at a time; Erin had a superb (and quite convicting) observation about the priorities we see in many church budgets (something, it’s worth noting, that Jared has also posted about at various points); and Heather asked, simply, WWJD?: What would James do?My wife capped off the day for me by bringing her ongoing consideration of the reality, or lack thereof, of money to bear on the problem; she manages, I think, to fuse this issue with my earlier ruminations about economics as one of the elemental powers of our society and how we should respond to that. I think she’s found another part of the response, and I encourage you to read her post.

Global poverty as symptom

Today is Blog Action Day 2008, focused on global poverty; I’ve been ruminating on this subject for several days now, which is why I asked the question I did this past Monday. In approaching the subject, I have a couple basic assumptions. One, poverty is the consequence of human sin: we have poor people because our hearts (all of our hearts, not just the hearts of the rich) are evil. Two, poverty is both a systemic result and an individual result of human sin. This is to say that many people are poor because of the sinful acts of individuals, whether themselves (becoming addicted to drugs) or others (grand theft), but this takes place within a reality in which poverty as a whole exists because of the systemic effects of human sin. As such, poverty must be addressed at both the lowest possible level—person by person—and at the level, not merely of the national or even global economic system, but of the national global relational system.What this means, I think, is not that specifically economic responses focused on ameliorating poverty are wrong, but that they’re premature, because the economic condition is a symptom of deeper systemic problems which must first be addressed before economic approaches can truly be effective. On a global scale, Paul Collier (former director of research at the World Bank) has some critically important things to say about this in his book The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries Are Failing and What Can Be Done About It. As Fr. Richard John Neuhaus wrote in his article on Collier’s book,

It is precisely Collier’s argument that poverty itself is not a trap. If poverty were a trap, the whole world would be as poor as it once was. Collier writes: “Nor do I believe that poverty itself is a trap. These development failures occurred against a backdrop of global development success—poverty is something that most people are managing to escape. Since 1980 world poverty has been falling for the first time in history. Nor was it just a matter of Africa. Elsewhere there were also development failures: countries such as Haiti, Laos, Burma, and the Central Asian countries, of which Afghanistan has been the most spectacular. A one-size-fits-all explanation for development failure doesn’t ring true against such diversity.” In sum . . . the great challenge is not world poverty but the plight of the bottom billion.Instead of the “poverty trap,” Collier contends that the bottom billion are caught in four other traps: the conflict trap, involving civil wars and genocides; the natural resource trap, in which oil or other riches deflect attention from economic development; the trap of being landlocked with bad neighbors, which results in the stifling of trade and communications; and the trap of bad governance in a small state, creating pervasive governmental corruption and the undermining of legal economic order.These four traps, individually and working in combination, result in the marginalization of the bottom billion from the dynamics of global development. In this respect and others, Paul Collier’s argument complements and reinforces the analysis offered in John Paul II’s 1991 encyclical Centesimus Annus. Marx was wrong, the pope explained, in claiming that the poor are poor because they are exploited by the rich. The great problem is not exploitation but marginalization. With some exceptions, the pope wrote, the poor are poor and getting poorer because they are excluded, or exclude themselves, from the circle of productivity and exchange.

From my own ministry connections to folks in various parts of Africa, that’s spot-on. Countries like Uganda and Zimbabwe are naturally rich—but many or most of the people aren’t, because they’re prevented. In the case of Uganda, the problem is the civil war in the north that began a quarter-century ago and raged unabated until recently; Zimbabwe, of course, has been ruined by Robert Mugabe, its president. These and other traps must be addressed in order for the poor of such nations to have any chance at all of escaping poverty. As Neuhaus continues,

Collier illustrates the conflict trap and the natural resource trap by reference to the rebel leader Laurent Kabila, who, leading his troops across Zaire to seize the government, explained to a journalist that all you need for a successful coup is $10,000 and a satellite phone. With the money, you can buy yourself an army, and with the phone you can, as Kabila did, arrange $500 million worth of deals with corporations that are willing to bet on your winning. This is what Collier calls the natural resource trap, when a country’s possession of oil or diamonds or gold is a curse rather than a blessing, making corruption and conflict more profitable than development. China, which has few qualms about democratic niceties, is busily buying up whoever can be bought in Africa.Throughout the continent, the military is an engine of devastation. . . . Collier reports that in Africa around 40 percent of development aid money inadvertently ends up supporting the military and that in some cases only 1 percent of funds designated for health care, for instance, are used for that purpose.

This is what happens when “corruption and conflict [are] more profitable than development”; indeed, given human sin, it’s what happens any time destructive behavior is (or appears) more profitable than constructive behavior. In the US—which is such a rich nation that even our poor are among the richer people in the world—we have a different set of issues and circumstances surrounding poverty than exist in places like Zimbabwe; but the same fundamental dynamics are in play, and the same four basic traps. Here too, simply spending money isn’t going to fix the problem: we need to change the system by addressing those traps and changing the incentive structure that benefits destructive behavior. Before any assistance to the poor of this country can work on any kind of large scale, we need to set them free.

A question on poverty

Is it more important to help the poor in absolute terms, or in relative terms? Put another way, is it more important to improve the standard of living of those who are poor, or to reduce the difference between their standard of living and that of those who are rich? Which would be preferable: economic conditions in which the standard of living of the poorest 10% improves by 50% while that of the top 1% triples, or conditions in which the standard of living of the poorest 10% improves by 10% while that of the top 1% declines by 10%?It seems to me that conservatives lean towards the former answer, while liberals lean toward the latter; conservatives generally don’t believe that income inequality really matters if standards of living are improving for everyone, while liberals, on my observation, seem to view income inequality as the primary problem. (This isn’t the only difference between left and right on this issue, as conservatives also still maintain a greater stress on the role of social pathologies such as drug abuse and promiscuity, as well as mental illness, in poverty, while liberals emphasize the role of injustice on the part of the rich and powerful; I’m hopeful that on these issues, however, the two sides have learned at least a little from each other, as it seems to me that there are more people now taking both sets of issues into account.) The question of which we value more goes a long way to determining what sort of policy approaches to poverty we prefer.

A further thought on economics

To pull a line of Doug Hagler’s again which I quoted below:

Everyone treats economics as a science, which in our culture, means a truth-discerning and truth-telling method, when it is in fact a value system of subjective measurement.

This is all the truer because of the nature of the math underlying economics, as the UK’s John Adams points out:

The mathematically trained “rocket scientists” in the City and Wall Street have been engaged in a financial arms race. They have been extravagantly rewarded for devising the clever financial “instruments” that are so clever that no one, themselves included, understands them.Almost 20 years ago, in Does God Play Dice?—The Mathematics of Chaos, Ian Stewart observed: “because we are part of the universe, our effort to predict it may interfere with what it was going to do. This kind of problem gets very hairy and I don’t want to pursue what may well be an infinite regress: I don’t know how a computer would function if its constituent atoms were affected by the results of its own computations.”The bubble of bad debt now distributed globally presents precisely the problem that Stewart does not wish to pursue. The rocket scientists are still absurdly well rewarded for playing war games with other rocket scientists – with other people’s money. But they are the constituent atoms in Stewart’s infinite regress. They have all become day traders trying to second-guess each other over the next move up or down of whatever it is they are betting on.The current bubble may prove to be the biggest ever. But maths courses, as Simon Jenkins has observed, don’t do history.

As someone trained in history, I might be biased, but I’d say that’s half the problem right there.

Considering art and the eternal

One of the great things about living in the Warsaw/Winona Lake area is experiencing the benefits of having a world-class music ministry, Dr. Patrick Kavanaugh’s Christian Performing Artists’ Fellowship and its MasterWorks Festival, located here. (This is especially great for me since Dr. Kavanaugh is also the music minister of the church which I serve as pastor.) Tonight, it was the Second Sunday series, which opened with Barbara Kavanaugh on cello playing a Bartok suite of Romanian folk dances and closed with Gert Kumi on violin playing a suite of Albanian dances by a 20th-century composer I’d never heard of before—both wonderful pieces beautifully played—as the bookends to a thoroughly enjoyable peformance. We are blessed.As I was sitting there in the dark of Rodeheaver Auditorium, the thought occurred to me: can we perhaps define art as those things which will endure, not only in this creation but in the new creation? There are various definitions and philosophies of art out there, with most of which I disagree at least in part, and I don’t have any well-developed and firmly-fixed ones of my own; that’s something I’ve been working on for a while now. I even wondered this past spring if art is even a small enough thing to define at all; I’m by no means sure it is. Even if it’s too big to define in its essence, it might yet be possible to define it operationally; hence my thought of this evening.On the one hand, I’ve believed for a while that what makes true art is partly about quality (for lack of a better word) and partly about truth; Ragnar Tørnquist wrote one of his key characters in The Longest Journey an excellent disquisition on the latter point, which I’ll post on at such time as I can ever get the game running on any of the computers that are currently consenting to function in this house. To say that those things which are both great enough and true enough to be preserved by God in the new heavens and the new earth qualify as art has a certain appeal to it. On the other hand, it does seem to me to be too restrictive. To take an extreme example, it seems safe to say that we won’t be reading Flaubert as we walk the streets of the new Jerusalem—but does that mean that Madame Bovary isn’t art? The conclusion seems to me self-evidently absurd. The worldview of the book is, I think, brutal hogwash; but Flaubert expresses it brilliantly and powerfully, and at an extremely high level of technical accomplishment. Can that not be art? I don’t really think so. Which means that my thought must be, at best, an incomplete definition: a category of art, but not the whole.Update: a conversation with my wife (who hated Madame Bovary) suggested an aspect I hadn’t considered: whatever the falsity of his philosophy and conclusions, Flaubert unquestionably captured the truth of the human condition under sin with great vividness; if one doesn’t believe (as I don’t) that human history and the reality of this world’s brokenness will be simply erased and forgotten in the new creation, then it makes sense to think that his artistic achievement might indeed endure for that reason. Maybe, then, the problem isn’t with my definition, but with my application of it.

The true reward

This is a great clip I found tonight on Ray Ortlund’s blog:

Good stuff in a short clip. I’m not familiar with 13 Letters, which apparently is a hip-hop curriculum on the Pauline Epistles—not a combination which it would have occurred to me to expect, but it looks like they have some solid teaching effectively presented.I should note as well that I also greatly appreciated this comment of the Rev. Dr. Ortlund’s in the thread on his post, not least because I could too often say the same of myself:

God made us for greatness, for glory, honor and immortality (Romans 2:7). God wants that for us. But it happens only under God’s approval. One of the worst parts of my own fallenness is that God’s approval doesn’t mean nearly as much to me as it should. Sure, he matters. But what would really make my heart sing today is if you would just please, pretty please, adore me.Dishonoring to God.Manipulative of you.Unsatisfying to and weirdifying of me.But God is at work in our hearts for better things, to the praise of the glory of his grace.

The heart of worship and the worshipful heart

I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice,the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.—Hosea 6:6 (ESV)Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory. —James 1:27-2:1 (ESV)For whatever reason, I haven’t much mentioned Barb and her blog, A Former Leader’s Journey—maybe only once or twice, actually; I’m not sure why that is, since I appreciate her and what she has to say, but it’s just the way it’s played out. Tonight, though, I simply had to mention a beautiful post she put up today on worship, “Worship That He is Pleased With—or Worship in the Bathroom”; I think she goes right to the heart of the matter, and I commend her post to your reading.