Back in the day, American schoolchildren studied “civics” —the history and workings of our democracy. Curricula often included the formative influence of “the world’s first democracy of the ancient Greeks.” Thirty years ago, the role of American civic education became less important, competing with new priorities for better science and math, and facing curricular debates over new historical interpretations of the nation’s past. Meanwhile, study of democracy’s Greek heritage similarly slipped into a lower classroom priority. Read the full article here.
A young boy observes the statue of Confederate general Albert Pike after it was toppled by protesters at Judiciary square in Washington, DC June 19, 2020. (Photo by ERIC BARADAT) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Public statues falling everywhere. Robert E. Lee, Christopher Columbus, Thomas Jefferson, and more—memorialized leaders yanked to the ground, no longer heroes to angry crowds demonstrating this summer for racial justice. So which bronze effigies deserve to be (literally) knocked off their pedestal? Or, perhaps less clear, what happens after that? It’s easy enough to decry a general, or statesman or explorer’s historical sins with today’s sharpened retrospection: but what kind of leaders should replace the fallen? Should our public spaces still be graced with grand effigies of leaders at all? (President Trump has meanwhile pondered whether his own likeness should be added to Mount Rushmore).
US President Donald Trump at Mount Rushmore National Memorial in Keystone, South Dakota, July 3, 2020. (Photo by SAUL LOEB) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Expect the broader debate about celebrating—or not celebrating—particular leaders to rage on, raising ever more inflamed emotion. For a cooling pause, and some scholarly perspective, I reached out to Cornell professor Barry Strauss, an esteemed author of page-turning studies of many historical leaders (most recently Ten Caesars: Simon & Schuster, 2019). Our conversation focused on two questions: What can we learn from past civilizations about erecting public monuments to leaders? And how can such lessons inform America’s future commemorations?
Patterns Through History
Barry Strauss, Cornell UniversityPHOTO: ROBERT BARKER, USED BY PERMISSION, (C) CORNELL UNIVERSITY, 2020
Strauss first cautioned: “Every civilization has its own political values—lessons about monuments must be contextualized. But there are some common patterns. Also, we need to look beyond statues. Through history leaders have been promoted by whole systems of images and rituals: ceremonies, coins, religious buildings, different forms of art, education.”
As we proceeded, the discussion yielded several insights:
1. Autocracies and democracies monumentalize leaders differently—but always to influence a public audience. Professor Strauss contrasted civilizations like pharaonic Egypt and imperial Rome vs those of ancient Athens or America’s republic: in the former, awe-inspiring projection of a larger-than-life ruler vs in democracies, celebration of distinguished citizens who triumphed serving the people. “But in both cases, you still see promotion of certain heroic values—e.g., strength, courage, or perhaps mercy or duty; and an effort to elevate the leader to a higher plane. In autocracies, statues communicate a mixture of divine reverence and fear; democratic nations tend to inspire more human admiration. But for both the message is always educational—shaping opinions through public images and symbols.”
2. As the politics and values of a nation change, so will its monuments. Thus the central question of today’s debates in America: are we in the midst of a transformation that calls for new approaches in choosing leaders to celebrate? Or are today’s demonstrations more ephemeral, unlikely to affect enduring ideas of historical heroes (Confederate generals perhaps excepted)?
A Surge of Power (Jen Reid) 2020, installed in Bristol, England to replace the former statue of the slave trader Edward Colston. (PHOTO BY BEN BIRCHALL/PA IMAGES VIA GETTY IMAGES)
“It’s too soon to know,” Strauss warned. “But ancient Rome has some lessons about how shifting values can play out over time. Early Roman civilization was small and rough: there were few public statues, but instead elaborate funerals for members of the aristocratic families that controlled the state. Later, when Rome grew through conquest, public statues of successful generals started to appear, enhanced by other hero-promotion, like triumphal parades, and god-like images of leaders on coins—a practice Julius Caesar adapted from Alexander the Great in Hellenistic Greece.”
“But when the Emperor Augustus ended the Roman civil wars, he deliberately transformed the cult of warrior personalities, shifting his own public image towards “peaceful divinity” and also endorsing family and more traditional Roman values. The reliefs of his famous Altar of Peace were a brilliant blend of old and new, divine and human, and men buttressed by strong women—signaling his wish for a new era of the imperial culture.”
Members of the Imperial Family of Augustus depicted on the Ara Pacis Augustae. Ist Century A.D.BETTMANN ARCHIVE
How will America communicate its own transitions? Will America someday have its own Augustus to help us on our way?
3. Abstraction can sometimes be more powerful than celebrating individual leaders. “The Great Pyramids were a monumental symbol of the strict hierarchical power of ancient Egyptian kings—built by thousands of workers who owed labor to an omnipotent pharaoh. But they were also a public boast to instill cultural pride, like America landing a man on the moon.”
Camels resting before the Great Pyramids of Giza, Cairo, EgyptJOE SOHM/VISIONS OF AMERICA/UNIVERSAL IMAGES GROUP VIA GETTY IMAGES
“Consider also classical Athenians, which celebrated the civic dignity of their democracy: sculpting images of anonymous citizens in procession on parts of the great Parthenon; or, in another famous relief, depicting the demos symbolically—the common people as a wise man, crowned by the god of Democracy itself.”
4. Monumental messages can be subtle or even ambiguous. Iconoclastic attacks on contemporary statues may miss the deeper history of their intended messages: “Alexander the Great enhanced his public charisma by managing minute details in all his images, like a modern consumer brand: his hair always windswept, no beard (unlike most Greek men)—indicating a vigorous and eternally young ruler.
Alexander The Great, King of Macedonia (356 – 323 BC), bust dated c. 330 BC (Photo by Hulton Archive) GETTY IMAGES
He also ennobled particular lieutenants with their own statues, signaling the value of royal loyalty. He was relentless in his messaging.”
Historical monuments can have multiple meanings. “Many Civil War Confederate generals were memorialized in racist support of Jim Crow laws. But some monuments were also dedicated in the spirit of reconciliation, echoing Lincoln’s hope of ‘malice towards none.’” Consider also the silent message of non-monuments—who is and who is not being commemorated: “After the American Revolution there were no statues erected of loyalists who had supported the Crown, even though many were once distinguished citizens. And post WW II Italy is a story of commemorations that should have been removed but weren’t: unlike Nazi monuments almost universally destroyed in Germany, some Italian fascist monuments were sometimes left standing. You can still see some today.”
5. Judge public monuments in the context of the broader national narrative. On the eve of the American Revolution, rabble-rousing patriots in New York pulled down a gilded statue of King George III— a rejection of kingly power of the sort that led to our war of independence. But at the time, nobody knew if and when a new American democracy would be born. But it was, and thus the story of toppling King George can today be added to our national narrative. And of course, so was the other George (Washington) who fought the war and then became our first president.
Today, the second George is now under attack for himself owning slaves: are we on our way to another revolution, that will somehow explain our historical past with a different and more relevant narrative?
Images of demonstrators protesting racial injustice in June 2020 reflected in a WW1 US Army recruitment poster. (Photo by Brendan Smialowski) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Professor Strauss commented with some appropriately sober academic judgment: “We can’t predict the future, but we should honestly confront the reality of today—America is clearly having a debate about the story of its history, and ultimately the story of America itself. It’s been going on since the 1960s, and we’re not near any resolution yet. We shouldn’t be surprised—our society has gone through huge change—greater social freedom for many constituencies (people of color, women, gay people, etc.), lots more immigration and new values, more social inequality. There’s also an ongoing conflict between older generations and the values they hold dear, and a rising younger generation that sees our world very differently. Controversies about statues and leaders are ultimately just signals of deeper clashes about our national story.”
So Where Do We Go From Here?
I closed by pressing this Cornell historian a bit more—what’s the right way to find our new national story, and agree the right heroes to celebrate therein?
He first offered some sound procedural suggestions (forming a diverse and multi-generational, multi-local commission, facilitating a national conversation, blending expert opinions with those of everyday citizens, etc.) But his final thoughts were wisest of all: “We have to engage many different opinions—but ultimately find some common thread, a shared unity that ties us together as a national community. Our future story should combine the best elements of the past, with more forward-looking ideas—respecting the valued core of yesterday but also informed by real innovation now underway. The Romans built a thousand-year civilization on that basis. There’s no reason we can’t reconceive our democratic society the same way.”
ANNAPOLIS, MD – APRIL 18: Protester at a rally to reopen the Maryland economy amidst the coronavirus pandemic: April 18, 2020. (Photo by Drew Angerer) GETTY IMAGES
But these thinnish guidelines may be more “feature than bug.” The framework’s vague simplicity affirms the president’s concession to let governors decide when to end the business and social shutdowns. More important, the spotlight now shifts to a more promising resource for inventing our post-Corona lives—the emerging network of front-line local leaders, state officials, medical practitioners, researchers, business owners and everyday citizens. Right now, growing numbers of people, in the best American tradition, are pragmatically solving multiple problems spawned by the pandemic. As they increasingly collaborate across boundaries, they are implicitly evolving a regionally-tailored set of plans for “a new normal.”
Joanne Collins Brock , a second grade teacher at St Francis School teaches online due to coronavirus closure: April 15, 202, Goshen, Kentucky. (Photo by Andy Lyons) GETTY IMAGES
We’re looking at the best bet for successfully navigating a phase II Corona transition.
Next, abandon political forensics about past blame. We can’t invent the new normal via a zero-sum trench war of freedom warriors vs scientifically-cautious officials. Reopening will demand difficult choices for everyone—with differential risks and sacrifices, including some resurgent death rates. Proven therapies and vaccines still remain in the unknowable future.
Abandon also the politically convenient axiom that “no one must choose between saving lives and freeing the economy.” Reopening America hinges on exactly such choices. Embrace the problem-solving network to accelerate innovation, to manage the inherent trade-offs. The network must also forge democratic consensus for action plans and schedules for different populations across communities.
Principles For Network Effectiveness
Betting on the network calls for all of us to do more: to participate in its work where we can, and to press elected officials to make collaborative connections more effective. A few principles drawn from large-scale organizational learning can guide us:
Medical workers outside NYU Langone Health hospital as people applaud to show their gratitude to front lines of the coronavirus pandemic (Photo by Noam Galai) GETTY IMAGES
1. Keep extending the network and developing trust. The bigger the network, the richer the potential for breakthrough solutions. But scale without trust fast erodes progress. Trust is not about liking other people—it comes from shoulder-to-shoulder work together, on common challenges, without ego or ulterior motives.
Good news, we can build on network growth underway. The National Governors Association (chaired by Republican Larry Hogan and Vice-Chair Democrat Andrew Cuomo) has been developing a knowledge-sharing exchange for coronavirus action, spawning state to state collaborations and shaping a clearer partnership with the federal government. Two local sub-groups have also formed, one among six eastern states and another of California, Oregon, and Washington, each developing regionalized approaches to re-opening their economies. As other communities also develop plans, expect to see more “living experiments”: how to re-imagine, restructure, and creatively balance risk and reward of a new normal, in schools, businesses, and public gatherings, across different parts of the country.
Jeremy Reitman (R) and his wife Taryn display an internet-sourced design to make medical quality face shields on 3D printers in their garage in Calabasas, California (Photo by Robyn Beck ) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
Add also the increasing innovation from private sector contributors . Thousands of small and larger businesses are developing faster, cheaper approaches to manufacturing masks, testing solutions, vaccines, as well as new ways to deliver consumer products and services more safely to consumers. Entrepreneurial non-profits and corporate philanthropies are also providing creative forms of support, with food banks, equipment donations, new forms of medical delivery, etc.
2. As the network grows, build shared purpose and performance goals. Once connections reach critical mass, mobilize a shared vision of success: “why are we working together, and how do we know if we are winning or losing?” More measurement of success and failure will also help clarify what processes should remain local and which must be national.
3. Develop a culture of transparency: Honest reporting of successes and challenges of performance strengthens trust. So does non-politicized analysis about why certain strategies make progress, and how transferable they are across different contexts. In general, we need less “gotcha” and “sympathy” journalism, and more analytical case studies.Finally, to repeat the now urgent chorus, more testing, testing, testing—and tracking too, so we can more dynamically adjust to ever-changing threats of the disease.
4. Empower the network to keep learning, but also to shape support from the Federal government. Experiments, lessons learned and knowledge-building are most powerfully done at the front-line—in the states, in hospitals, in businesses, in communities, in businesses, as they all wrestle with balancing risk and opportunity. But networks also need the right kind of support from a “central platform”—not top- down control, but enabling coordination.
New York Governor Andrew Cuomo and Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump: September 11, 2016 in New York. (Photo credit: BRYAN R. SMITH/) AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES
State governors must therefore keep finding ways to forge cooperation with the Trump administration. That begins by affirming the positive contributions from the federal government—specialized medical and scientific research, funding and sourcing materials (especially foreign). But governors must also keep pushing for win-win collaborations between state and federal, where both sides must do their part: development of technical and medical standards; rationalizing purchase and allocation of supplies; collecting and communicating best practices from across the nation.
5. Create non-bureaucraticshared governance. A large network—of state, local and Federal officials, non-profit and corporate leaders, entrepreneurs, scientists, et al., — must clarify how it governs itself, without becoming a sluggish bureaucracy, or defaulting to free-wheeling survival of the fittest. A simple governance model can be built by working together to classify who owns different decisions for reopening the economy, and related protocols for what members must be consulted, informed, or encouraged to act independently.6. Celebrate collaborative excellence and challenge failing performance—for the greater good. Every one trying to get us through this mess together must learn how to accentuate the positive while also holding each other accountable for excellence. That means honest assessment of problems and how to fix them, without resorting to accusations that are personal. COVID-19 virus is about as impersonal as anything on earth—and it’s deadly effective. There’s a lesson here for everyone now fighting it.
Yes, maybe: but only if we stop blaming bits and bytes, forget about “global democracy,” and instead tackle the structural deficits of our current representative systems of national self-governance. Thus argues Dr. Roslyn Fuller, a Canadian-Irish academic lawyer and author of the new In Defence of Democracy.
This lively polemic asserts that the problem for western civic societies is not so much defending against hostile and abusive use of technology. Instead, it’s failing to use technology to rediscover what democracy should be for the modern nation state: citizens participating personally in public debate and having meaningful say in policy decisions that affect them—without the distorting and corruptible role of legislative proxies or elitist agency officials. If we’re going to defend—and keep alive—democracy today, she insists, we need a revolution: go back to what the ancient Athenians invented in the 5th century BCE, where every citizen regularly participated in discussion and voting for the laws that would steer their livelihoods and survival. Dr. Fuller believes new technology and communication tools can now provide the means to scale up for millions of people what ancient Athenians did with perhaps (at most) 50,000 citizens.
Roslyn Fuller BRAD ATEKE
The book builds on Fuller’s earlier research, further detailing her back-to-the-future proposition. Her central premise is that any modern representative democracy— e.g. U.S. constitutional government, or Britain’s “monarch-lite” parliamentary model—will inevitably slide towards a gridlocked, gerrymandered, influence-peddled partisan morass. “The small number of seats in legislatures serving a major population means elections aren’t really representative—allowing money to grow in influence, which in turn sets up factional fighting and winner-take-all strategies. Meanwhile, what these representatives discuss is increasingly out of touch with most common people’s priorities—leading to rising frustration, disengagement, and declining voter turnout. Which then invites more winner-take-all by powerful interests and increasing partisan focus on policy that entrenches elites. To break the cycle we have to authentically give power back to the people.”
Why not reach for some blue sky ideas? GETTY
Re-imagining Reinvention
Yes it’s blue sky, and of course fraught with a host of implementation issues (e.g. levels of geographical engagement, infrastructure design, process protocols, security assurances, discussion moderation, etc.). But take a moment to consider other alternatives: what will it actually take “to fix today’s democracy?” Is limiting campaign contributions, changing the tax code, or reforming the Electoral College going to be enough to rebuild freedom, equality, and the pursuit of happiness across America?
Here are five further insights from our conversation for your own imaginative reflections:
1. Technology for large-scale, direct democracy is less about elections and more about empowering policy debate and decision-making en masse. Fuller acknowledges the problems of hacked balloting and cyber-meddling—but no election reform will solve the bigger problem of disconnected citizens working through proxies: “A few hundred legislative members or a president can be easily corrupted by rich powerful lobbies. Which now happens every day. Also, the current pace of decision-making, and the two- or four-year cycle of change in representative government can’t keep up with the global economy. Using technology to give millions of citizens direct involvement in policy-making is faster and more flexible. And lobbyists can’t bribe or intimidate the population of an entire nation state.”
2. Our corrosive political media thrives because virtual conversations are untethered from policy consequences. “Yes of course,” Fuller acknowledged, “we need safeguards against cyber-bullying and moneyed and foreign influence shaping opinion. But Facebook diatribes, Twitter wars, and cable shout-fests keep growing because people can’t turn their own strongly held opinions into action. Give citizens a real say in policy-making, and the cyber negativity will decline.”
3. Reforming democracy with technology-scaled participation requires practical citizen education. Everyone agrees that improving our political system calls for better “civic knowledge” across the population. But that can’t just be more high-school courses on “how a bill becomes a law.” Dr. Fuller argues from another lesson of ancient Athenians: “Education has to be learn-by-doing for all the citizens, all the time: participating in public debate, developing your own opinions by hearing and joining arguments, and observing the consequences of decisions—which are often painful.”
Pericles (c. 495 to 429 BC), the most prominent and influential Greek statesman, orator and general of Athens during the Golden Age GETTY
“A lot of American and European cities are successfully experimenting with this form of practical civic education with ‘participatory (or open) budgeting’—allowing citizens to debate and decide how to allocate the public money of their community. The process creates vivid civic lessons about the prioritizing and compromising necessary in a democratic society.”
4. Mass engagement could rebuild fractured communities. Fuller also argues for second-order effects of mass engagement. If millions of citizens participate in political decisions—with appropriate facilitation, rules and encouragement (including some offsetting compensation)— the process can help temper partisan divisions, and build new civic relationships. “When the outcomes of debates concretely effect people’s future, citizens learn to listen to one another, and work for solutions that everyone has to live with. They see that, instead of always pushing for ‘the scientifically perfect answer,’ sometimes accepting compromise can bring other people in, and unify support. Joining together for action strengthens community bonds.”
President John F. Kennedy gives his ‘Race for Space’ speech at Houston’s Rice University. Texas, September 12, 1962. CORBIS VIA GETTY IMAGES
“And we also have to get away from today’s victim mentality. The ancient Greeks and Romans accomplished a lot with very little—their politicians made the higher call for excellence. Likewise, tomorrow’s leaders cannot just think about themselves. They have to inspire us with what a better democratic future means for all the citizens—and get us all involved to share the task: building a more prosperous society, with a renewed middle class, and where every individual can flourish and reach his or her full potential.”
Iowa Caucuses in the 2016 Presidential Election GETTY
Special Counsel Robert Mueller walks past the White House, soon after submitting his report on possible Trump collision with Russia in the 2016 election. (AP Photo/Cliff Owen)
But let’s widen the aperture. Waging ceaseless trench warfare about Mueller’s report, and brandishing narratives about Trump the Savior versus Trump the Demon can obscure bigger questions. Our democracy is not one president. It’s a broad system of interconnected, tangible and intangible pieces. So how safe and how healthy is that system, looking ahead? How worried or optimistic should we be about our democracy’s future?
Summoning The Lamplight of History
For that, Andrew Porwancher, associate professor at the University of Oklahoma’s Institute for the American Constitutional Heritage provided some helpful insights in a recent interview. Porwancher is one of the star lecturers of The One Day University which showcases highly-rated college professors to lay audiences in day-long events across 61 North American cities. Our conversation–about the successes and travails of our constitution’s history—produced some encouraging answers to the bigger-than-Mueller questions. Summary take: American democracy is not about to die–but if it’s going to keep evolving and adapting, we are all going to have to step up our game as citizens.
Andrew Porwancher, lecturing at the One Day University. (By permission, One Day University) WILHELM KUHN
Five themes from our discussion tell the tale:
1.Two hundred plus years of debate and conflict in American democracy has delivered plenty of progress.
“Our divisions today are not exceptional,” Porwancher began optimistically. “Our system of governance has been extraordinarily resilient through history. We endured a protracted war of independence against a global superpower. We survived a civil war where 600,000 Americans died, and then later two world wars. And we’ve wrestled with incredible internal dissent all the while, tolerating it and then adapting. Meanwhile we’ve steadily expanded the country’s freedoms to those previously disenfranchised—slaves, women, gay Americans, etc. If you look at the arc of our history—and our relative success (not total—we don’t always get it right, especially as a big and complex society)—there’s every reason to be hopeful. But we also can’t let ourselves become complacent. Some things do need fixing now.”
2. History won’t “settle our arguments once and for all” but it should help us appreciate our heritage of political debate and compromise.
Porwancher attacked the myth that continued search for the Founding Fathers’ original intent is a solution to end today’s acrimony. “The Framers shared many basic principles which still inform today’s democracy—the central importance of liberty, and a realistic view that power corrupts and must therefore be moderated by a system of checks and balances. But the Founders often disagreed, even changing their own minds sometimes, for example, about how much power the central government should have (e.g. Jefferson’s early opposition to a powerful central bank but later embrace of Federal prerogative to seize the opportunity of the Louisiana Purchase); or the actual role of religion in civic life (separation of church and state wasn’t as hard-edged in the 18th century as we see it today).”
Porwancher also noted that the drafters of the Constitution were sometimes either accidentally ambiguous or intentionally sparse with their language, to encourage context-sensitive interpretation in the future. “The best example is probably the ‘necessary and proper’ clause, which empowers Congress to pass legislation necessary and proper for fulfillment of its enumerated powers, endowing the federal government with a measure of latitude to meet unanticipated exigencies.”
Enduring Fault Lines
“Our Constitution emerged out of fundamental fault lines which the Framers never fully resolved—the issue of slavery a chief example—but also others which still vex us today: agrarian and rural interests versus urban and mercantile; northern versus southern states. And because the Founders so prioritized individual freedom, it was inevitable that protecting it encouraged a culture of political dissent: As Madison famously wrote ‘liberty is to faction what air is to fire.’ Politics in his day were every bit as divisive as ours, which is why the Founders worked hard to design safeguards and checks and balances, so that disagreements wouldn’t erupt into war, but instead be channeled into courts, public hearings, and legislative solutions.”
James Madison ( 1751-1836), fourth president of United States. GETTY
Porwancher went on to emphasize how the Constitution was itself built on compromise, affirming an approach to cut through democratic disagreements and harsh ideologies. “For example, in one early debate about slavery, Virginia sided with abolitionists to oppose more importation of slaves—not because they suddenly loathed human bondage, but because at the time they had too many slaves and wanted to increase their value by reducing supply.”
3. To continue our progress, today’s democracy now requires urgent changes
Porwancher counterpointed his optimism by acknowledging serious reform is now required to continue positive evolution. Beyond a few familiar operational changes (tightening up voting processes; rationalizing gerrymandering), he highlighted one critical institutional shift:“Congress needs to reassert itself. James Madison was explicit in the Federalist Papers that Congress should be the most powerful branch of government. The relative power of the legislature vs the executive has indeed waxed and waned over time—consider Congressional strength under Andrew Johnson, through the Gilded Age of the late nineteenth century, and during Watergate against Nixon. It’s time to rebalance legislative authority against today’s executive power.”
President Trump debates with House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, D-Calif., left, as Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y., and Vice President Mike Pence listen. Dec. 11, 2018 (Photo by Jabin Botsford/The Washington Post via Getty Images) GETTY
Invoking Alexander Hamilton, Porwancher underscored what is most paramount to the survival of democracy: “A robust Department of Justice must ensure the rule of law.” But as the historian further reflected, it’s also time for the rule of law to be extended to some currently soft democratic norms. “Things we used to take for granted—e.g. Presidential candidates releasing tax returns, putting personal assets in a blind trust—now need more statutory force. And Congress must offer greater legal specificity about the scope of the emoluments clause. Also, the barriers between leaders and administrative justice need rethinking—ensuring no public servant is allowed to be ‘above the law’, and also preventing them from using the law as a political weapon against opponents.”
Rebuilding Civic Culture
4. No less important than institutional change is rebuilding civic culture.
“You can’t sustain democracy by imposing institutions on a society not committed to democratic values. A constitution succeeds only if it channels a democratic culture.”
“How we debate and how we talk about our opponents matter. Our coarsening public discourse ought to be a great concern. The First Amendment says we have to tolerate free speech but not necessarily promote its harshest forms. If personal attacks, and all the trolling and anonymous vitriol of social media lessen our commitment to follow democratic norms, we can’t operate the institutions on which the constitution depends.”
“But at the same time, today’s situation is fostering demand for leaders who can speak for all of us. We don’t have to accept the extreme differences between us that the media projects in its ‘Blue State vs Red State’ narratives. Excesses of character and style among our presidents tend to regress to the mean—Carter’s honesty after Nixon, Bush the family man after Clinton, Trump the anti-Obama. I think our nation is now ready for a unifier. We can self-correct again.”
5. That said, don’t look to any single leader to fix our current problems.
Porwancher finished with a last historical reflection: “The Founders lived in their own toxic political times, and knew that when reasoned debate ends violence begins. It’s still true today. We have to believe that renewing our institutions, culture and discourse is what will sustain our democracy. If we do the hard work of self-governance—engaging, listening and respecting our opponents, problem-solving and compromising as needed—a better future awaits us.”
So if Robert Mueller isn’t going to save our democracy, who will do the job? The answer lies in the first three words of our Constitution.
Constitution of the United States of America GETTY
No, we can’t. Read Robert Kagan’s new book, The Jungle Grows Back: America and Our Imperiled World(Knopf, 2018), and you’ll find a full-throated case for drop-everything-emergency aid for something more existential, the colorless oxygen of today’s civilization we dangerously take for granted: the liberal world order. This plain-spoken senior fellow of Brookings wants to grab you by the lapels and scream urgency in your face—because if we lose the American-guaranteed collection of laws, democratic values, economic and defense treaties that have produced seven unprecedented decades of peace and prosperity, you’ll wonder why you ever worried about anything else.
Senior Brookings Fellow, Robert Kagan. Photo by Paul Morigi, and cover photo of The Jungle Grows Back, by permission of Alfred A. Knopf. (COURTESY OF BROOKINGS)
The botanical metaphor in Kagan’s book title began our recent conversation. “We’ve been living in a tranquil garden of largely peaceful practices and liberal expectations across much of the world, ignoring the dark forces of jungle multiplying under the rocks. If we don’t defend civilization’s cultivation—especially American’s guarantee of peace and economic integration across the world—the toxic creatures and weeds will roar back.” Thus China’s determined military rise, Russia’s continuing aggressions, fiery authoritarians on the march in so many once democratic countries.
Russian President Vladimir Putin and Chinese President Xi Jinping selecting food at an exhibition during the Eastern Economic Forum in Vladivostok, Russia, Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2018. (Sergei Bobylev/TASS News Agency Pool Photo via AP)
As Kagan continued, “Trump has been damaging the system—he too seems to have forgotten what good it has delivered—but actually America’s desire for maintaining the global order has been diminishing for years. After the dissolution of the Soviet empire in the 1990s, people talked about ‘the end of history”—that America didn’t have to worry anymore about war or aggression. History doesn’t end, it simply paused. The ugliest aspects of human nature are surging again.”
Vanishing Leadership, Vanishing Peace
Kagan’s apocalyptic message, repeated in other recent writings, is lucid and terrifying, all the more devastating for its relentless use of history. It’s a footnoted plea that “we’ve seen this movie before.” He reminds us that Americans have frequently turned away from defending world order, with regrettably familiar outcomes: to be dragged in later at greater cost (e.g. helping to stop Hitler earlier might have prevented World War II); or, simply hoping that “the problem would go away,” to watch it get ten times worse (e.g. Obama’s policy in Syria). Kagan acknowledges that America has sometimes misstepped (e.g. Viet Nam, Iraq), but he still argues that overall our foreign engagement has produced more peace and prosperity than not. “History shows,” he summarized, “that world order has never been achieved without some constructive force to keep the peace. The relative harmony and fair play we’ve created in the modern world will vanish if the U.S. forsakes international leadership.”
Overlooking Omaha Beach in Normandy today, site of the historic Allied invasion that turned the tide of World War II (photo: Getty, by permission)
Can Today’s Peaceful Garden Be Saved?
“The odds are against our preserving today’s world order,” Kagan flatly commented. “But the game isn’t over, and demise isn’t inevitable. But any rescue will require lots of new thinking and bucking current political tides.”
I turned our discussion to leadership, probing about the skills and mindsets of the people who built the postwar liberal order. So what would take to rebuild it now?
His replies led to several interesting insights beyond the book per se. Four have implications for all of us who should care about keeping the garden safe–as leaders in our own right, citizens of this country, and future voters in important elections forthcoming.
1. Today’s global liberal order was built piecemeal, evolving more through continuous improvement than “grand design.”
Kagan quickly listed the post-WWII building blocks of the order, led by the U.S—“first undoing the military capability of Japan and Germany, and then fostering their financial success; economic integration for them and others based on open trade and fair competition with America; creating a democratic and liberal culture among allies, guaranteed by America’s power, and our willingness to punish those who threatened it.” Yet he resisted the idea of any detailed vision. “The system emerged step by step as different American statesmen took on this or that immediate problem. How to keep Germany and Japan from causing war again? OK, next how to make it worthwhile for them and other nations to invest in trade and business, not more armies? And then, later, how to push back on Russia and Communism when they started to threaten the order?”
“It wasn’t a vision but a process. As broader benefits started to accrue, allies saw the value, and with that we built further on what had been achieved. When we made mistakes—like Viet Nam—we had the strength to learn and course-correct, as Reagan led us to do.”
So perhaps, I reflect, thinking of our discussion, we need to stop worrying about big theoretical frameworks, and start tackling specific problems to protect the garden we have—and just keep learning from mistakes and building on progress.
2. Today’s order emerged from “generational leadership.”Though Kagan acknowledges contributions of well-known policy makers—Dean Acheson, George Kennan, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Harry Trumanet al— he de-emphasized any “great man theory.” “The legacy was created by a whole generation, people born in the 1890s, who lived through the optimism of the early 20th C., and then watched it collapse in forty years of conflict. They had a shared experience, animated by fear and memory of war, so they worked together to prevent reemergence of the same horror. American Presidents have implicitly accepted that challenge and reliably invested in the order—until recently.”
Hiroshima after Atomic Bomb strike in 1945 (Photo by: Prisma Bildagentur/UIG via Getty Images)
And as we all join political debates and go to the polls in coming weeks, we might thus ask: has the current generation of American leaders lost touch with the risk of abandoning our global role?
3. The best leaders refuse the “either/or” choice between domestic and foreign policy investment.
Kagan railed about prioritizing domestic welfare over keeping the peace abroad. “Americans have periodically shied away from foreign affairs, claiming ‘we can’t afford to maintain military bases and also take care of our own people.’ Or that our own ‘social justice’ is more important than ‘freedom in the world.’ When we turn inwards we threaten our own prosperity and even survival. The greatest advances in racial justice in this country happened while we were building the liberal world order. Our guarantees of world commerce is what allows our own economy and people to flourish. Our military leadership is what protects us from the evil actors gunning for us today.”
As we spoke further, I came to appreciate the complex leadership needed to build and maintain the liberal world order that we still enjoy—engagement and capabilities on three levels at the same time: first, leaders with strength and courage against foes; second, leaders that also have empathy and ability to collaboratively guide fractious allies; third, also leadership skills for teaching and inspiring the citizens of our country. This third element in fact sparked Kagan’s final thoughts and the insight below.
4. We desperately need leaders who can explain and mobilize the rebuilding of this most precious asset.
Kagan had a ready list to save the flagging liberal order (indeed reversing Trump’s current approach)—“rebuild our allies’ solidarity; strengthen our global security guarantees; re-assert the practices of free trade; and pressure countries like Hungary, Poland, and Turkey to stop backsliding on democratic values.” But most important, he called for new American leadership that can rally tomorrow’s citizens around what our fathers’ generation collectively and intuitively knew—that the world is fundamentally dangerous; that peace and prosperity are not natural; that preserving an international liberal community depends critically on America’s political will to invest money and lives to keep open markets, and prevent violence against our allies and values.
Kagan closed with a blend of pessimism and aspiration. “It’s very difficult to explain all this to the American people. Even the gifted FDR struggled with the challenge. But we need a president now who can convince Americans that preserving our global liberal system is absolutely worth doing. That the cost of letting it come undone will be so much more than saving it. We have to find leaders who can motivate tomorrow’s generation to join this cause, and do whatever it takes, so our nation can reassert our fundamentally benign—even if self-interested—hegemony in the world.”
A boy walks past a statue of former US president Franklin Delano Roosevelt at the FDR Memorial in Washington, DC, July 2, 2018. (Photo: MANDEL NGAN/AFP/Getty Images)
Citizens at a town hall style meeting on health care policy, Towson University, August 2009 (Photo: Mark Wilson, Getty Images)
“Here in the U.S. we’re so used to a stable democracy that we misinterpret any crisis as imminent collapse. We’re going through a rough patch now, yes—but that’s simply a signal that it’s time to reboot.”
Ober with his long historical view is concerned but not panicked. “Democracy,” he continued, “is fragile—but it’s also persistent. It’s within our hands to renew it—and yes, we do need to get to work on that. But the key lies in understanding its conceptual roots. We can’t fix the system without getting back to the essence of true democracy. That’s been lost in our politics today.” This tantalizing assertion led us into Ober’s new book—and a conversation about a “solution vision” for fixing our struggling political system.
Josh Ober, Stanford University (photo: Phaedon Kydoniotis) MAYER
Reimagining True Democracy
Ober calls his Demopolis a “thought experiment,” a half-conceptual, half-imagined picture of fundamental democracy, where a well-defined body of citizens govern themselves collectively, free from the endemic strife that he believes certain tenets of modern liberalism are now bringing upon us. However, Demopolis is not some right-wing attack on progressive policies—Ober is himself a self-confessed “modern liberal”—but rather a historical-cum-philosophical journey back towards the essential heart of a body politic whose democratic ways have become flabby and confused by “too many misguided extensions of Enlightenment thinking.” Ober has spent a long career writing about ancient Greek democracy, but in recent years has applied more of its practice and theory to articulating historical patterns of political thought now shaping modern states. Demopolis aims a sharply focused telescope on age-old questions of freedom, equality, and self-governance—what makes them true, and where they can go wrong in more modern interpretation.
Photo by permission of J. Ober and and Cambridge University Press
Understanding Today’s Dysfunction
In fact, the problems of our current democracy is where our conversation next turned. Why, I asked, are we so at odds with one another now? Why does current “liberal thought”—and “non-liberal thought”– cause so much rancor, on this side or the other? Why are so many people disengaged or even attacking our democratic system, and what can be done about that? What will it take to rebuild a strong foundation to meet the challenges now threatening our constitutional way of life?
Five themes stood out as I reflected later on our discussion:
1. Look beneath personalities and political structures to understand our weakened democracy: Many Americans today view our democratic maladies either as a result of bad leadership (e.g. Trump’s “reinvention” of the presidency, or “swamp-dwelling, out-of-touch elites”); or instead the consequences of institutional decay (e.g. gerrymandered political districts, or too much influence of lobbyists and corporate money). Ober suggests that although these are indeed testing civic faith in our free society, the more fundamental problem is that our nation has lost sight of what it means to “govern ourselves.” Demopolis stands as a sort of new root cause analysis, appealing for “revolution” in the literal sense—turning back to first principles of self-governance that started the movement of democracy in western civilization.
2. We can’t fix our political problems today without returning to the essence of democracy: Like others, Ober traces the elements of democracy to its invention as a fully participatory city-state by the ancient Greeks. But his book quickly moves from history to practical paradigm, stripping away the romantic wrapper of Athenian temples, heroes and water clocks to focus on the handful of must-have conceptual elements that distinguished what democracy first meant—and (as he forcefully argues) still means today. It is a community (of citizens, with shared values and traditions) that:
Chooses to govern itself for three purposes: protecting itself, providing collective welfare, and ensuring a society answerable only to itself (“non-tyranny”)
Pursues these purposes by embracing three core beliefs (civic freedom, civic equality, and civic dignity for all citizens);
Expects its citizens to actively participate in public life, making decisions and taking accountability for what they collectively decide.
Various states, with different institutions, and different mechanisms have endeavored through history or today pursue various versions of “democracy” (including our U.S. three-branch, check-and-balance, representative-based Constitution)—but whatever the specific practices, any system of democracy will ultimately fail if this handful of conditions are not met and sustained. Thus, Ober insists, renewing any failing—or even just struggling– democracy must start with a blueprint of this essence. It’s a challenge he poses to all Americans today.
3. Our U.S. democracy is under stress because modern liberal thought has fused with—and sometimes confuses—the essence of self-governance. Ober argues that a sort of superstructure of post-Enlightenment thinking (e.g. highly autonomous personal freedom, global human rights, and economic social justice) has been built upon the original principles of a self-governing political community—and the conflation of the new and the old has caused us to lose sight of what democracy really means. Our modern version has taken us far beyond the historical core of more simple political freedom (of speech and association) and equality (everyone’s voice and vote must have the same value). American culture has become infused with demands about absolute rights, and appeals to universal justice (often left undefined but still claimed as non-negotiable.) The evolution has created strains and even contradictions among ourselves about the appropriate balance between privileges and duties as members of our community; about what it means to “be a democratic citizen”, and answerable to no one except ourselves.
As liberalizing trends become more extended, our body politic is being torn in two opposing directions, pulled beyond foundational democracy. On the one hand, advocates of non-negotiable freedom in all domains will insist on rights to do things that may harm the community in ways that most citizens do not support (e.g. unfettered ownership of assault weapons or to do business with avowed foreign enemies). On the other hand, many enthusiasts for universal social justice want to prioritize providing education, healthcare or economic assistance to non-citizens and immigrants, even if that may limit serving similar needs of many fellow Americans.
“The real problem,” Ober explained, “is not about a modern democracy adopting this or that policy of ‘rights’ or ‘universal justice’—if the citizens so agree to that. But there are trade-offs and difficult consequences of moving towards that kind of vision, and we haven’t as a nation really debated such things, or developed a shared understanding of what that means for us collectively. And an-every-four-year Presidential election is no substitute for that. A big part of the pessimism and even rage about our current system is that people just aren’t able to participate in the debates and decisions that are implicitly shaping the overall meaning of our democracy today.”
People shouting at the Towson town hall style meeting (Photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images)
4. The road to renewal must be built with hands-on civic education. The cognitive dissonance between fundamental democracy and the ever-expanding right-seeking liberal version is exacerbated by more and more citizens disengaging from public life, disconnected from any defined sense of membership in a political community. The demonization of “Washington” as a poisonous self-dealing swamp is a token of not just contempt but distance and alienation.
Many commentators have called for strengthening civic education as a strategy for rebuilding the health of American democracy—but Ober makes a critical distinction. “This can’t be about sitting in a classroom drawing charts about ‘how a bill becomes a law in Congress,’ or memorizing the names and dates of presidents. The world’s first democracy understood that civic education was actually ‘doing democracy’—citizens learning not just the craft but the meaning and passion of debating, persuading, compromising, and then accepting the consequences of making decisions together—and being accountable for your own destiny as a member of the community. We have to get back to that kind of civic learning—the lessons of practice and participation, not textbooks.”
Ober then put many of the contemporary suggestions for fixing democracy in that light. “Right now there’s a lot of enthusiasm for using technology to help citizens participate more directly, or to establish ‘civic panels or assemblies’ for citizens to advise lawmakers, do more decision-making by popular referenda, etc. These can be helpful, but not as an end in themselves. These can be interim experiments and first steps in a longer-term transformation. The real value of such mechanisms is to teach people anew what it means to operate as democratic citizens. And people have to practice and learn how to do that before anybody starts trying to change our constitution.”
5. Tomorrow’s leaders will succeed by reaffirming the core of democracy and its higher purposes. Ober concluded with a few aspirational thoughts related to leadership. “We’ll never turn today’s crisis into renewal unless we have a different kind of leadership than what we have today. John Kennedy challenged his nation to put a man on the moon, and demanded, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” Reagan led us against an ‘evil empire.’ Today we’re talking about marginal tax rates and inappropriate sexual behavior of this or that electoral candidate. Our real challenge is to find and support a new generation of leaders who understand what democracy and the power of a self-governing, purposeful community really is—and who can inspire people to become citizens again.”
Ted Hoyt of Tunbridge, VT addresses fellow citizens on the issue of a large-scale new real estate development, at his town’s annual civic meeting. March 7, 2017 (AP Photo/Lisa Rathke)
Town hall meeting hosted by Congressman Luis Gutierrez (D-IL) on March 6, 2017 in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo: Scott Olson/Getty Images)
Put aside the conspiracy theories, latest Trump tweets and wonky wars of healthcare: let’s think bigger picture and longer term—on the future of democracy itself. Is rising populism, anti-government rage, and scorched earth partisanship destroying self-governance as we have known it? Or just signaling a cyclical downturn? Maybe the political system we hold dear is collapsing into history.
Ah, history. Not just a sad destination but also a helpful friend for serious future-gazing. Can’t democracy’s origins and past development help us understand how resilient our current system of governance might be? And provide insight to the long-term prospects for our democratic way of life?
Those questions brought me to Paul Cartledge, recently retired Leventis Professor of Greek Culture at Cambridge University, and author of a recent magisterial survey on the origins and development of “governance by the people”: Democracy: A Life (Oxford University Press, 2016).
More Power To The People—Or Less?
I spoke to Professor Cartledge after my January conversation with another thought-provoking academic, Roslyn Fuller. Fuller had voiced pessimism about today’s democracy, but in her own new book, proposed an ancient-style solution: lance the boil of popular frustration about bureaucratic and distant representative government by “going back to an Athenian future”—embrace technology and some other structural changes to give all citizens direct say and participation in political decision-making.
“Heavens, no!” exclaimed Cartledge.
“Yes,” he continued, “for the longest time we’ve had a deficit of democracy in our governing systems—but now we’re having a surplus. Our recent U.K. referendum on Scottish independence (and again in the news), the disastrous and barely majoritarian outcome of Brexit, and the disturbing election of your new President—the last three years have been some of the most tumultuous of my adult life. This kind of decision-making has not represented sound ideas of an informed population, and but it does portend the potential for a dangerous abuse of popular power, perhaps even fascism.”
Paul Cartledge (Photo: Steve Kimberley) STEVE KIMBERLEY
“Using smart phones to vote or summon up more direct democracy is not what we need. The best hope lies with moderating populist trends underway. Representative-style government can be improved, but it’s still the best answer for the scale of governance nations must undertake today.”
Democracy Through The Ages
To dive deeper, Paul recounted a brief history of democracy, following his book. I probed repeatedly on three questions: What does past practice teach about what makes democracy strong, and resilient? What makes democracy break down? What should leaders today do to keep it alive for tomorrow?
Our discussion ranged across Cartledge’s years of research (particularly pre-modern history), and some of his own early career politicking. He offered no simple solutions—there are none– but he commented insightfully about challenges and hopes for preserving western democracy. A few of the enlightening themes follow:
1. Democracy in practice has not been a timeless, static concept but rather a march of punctuated experiments that “learn from the past.” Cartledge emphasized that although “democracy” is loosely applied to different regimes in history, its workings—and cultures—have varied, often substantially, over time. “In judging success and resilience, we need to understand that direct, full-on participatory system of ancient Athens was very different from, say, what the Romans developed in their Republic, or of course the representative model of today’s Anglo-American constitutions. In fact, even in Athens itself, the role of the individual, the institutions, and the decision-making practices were different in different phases of its history. ‘One size does not fit all.'”
“But ‘democracy’ does demonstrate some thematic historical consistency—organizing people around concepts of freedom, equality, and participatory self-governance, though varying in different constitutions. Leaders today should understand how those concepts worked in different cases—the dynamic of how different versions of democracy functioned—and what made each succeed or ultimately fail. Democracy in the west has been a series of ongoing experiments, each attempting to improve upon the shortcomings of previous models.”
Mixed Constitutions
“For example, the Athenians took measures during the fourth century BCE to minimize the volatility of the more free-ranging participatory politics of the fifth century. The Roman Republic similarly adopted a so-called “mixed constitution” which institutionalized checks and balances between popular and elite governing bodies, building further on the painful lessons when Greek democracy degenerated into “mobocracy.” Those same lessons were taken to heart by drafters of the U.S. Constitution to produce your system of “checks and balances,” separating powers among branches of government.”
So what are today’s leaders learning from history? Campaign rhetoric still rings about “draining the swamp” and changing this or that procedural rule to beat the other party—but who’s really thinking about fixing the failures and improving our system overall?
2. Each new “experiment” brought fresh compromises and new vulnerabilities to the democratic model. Just as every organizational design has strengths and weaknesses, so have different models of democracy through history. Cartledge referenced Athenian efforts to stabilize their democracy in the fourth century BCE—reducing legal lawmaking authority of the people, creating new officials to quality-control decision-making—that lessened the dangers of “mobocracy” but also “made for a less vital, more top-down culture of participation.” The “safer” mixed constitution of the Romans reduced citizen participation to “mostly voting in elections and town hall- style discussions,” but it also contributed to rising popular anger that opportunistic generals would later mobilize against one another, in civil war that destroyed the Res Publica. The same model encouraged bribery and favoritism by elite politicians to get plum assignments in the growing empire—another blow to the common good.
Ancient statue of Cicero, Roman statesman of the Republic. (Photo: Shutterstock)
Now consider our democracy today, with its own trade-offs and compromises. Rigorous checks and balances offer critical stability—but also enable our system to get bogged down in litigation and lobbying, cross-branch in-fighting, and molasses-like decision-making for a global economy demanding ever more agility. What might a future model of democracy do to alleviate that?
The Power Of Community
3. Despite differences, all democratic models try to create “a community of citizens.” Athenian democracy, the most radical form of self-governance, was built on a community that promised political freedom and equality coupled with giving citizens a say—and obligation—to steer their own destiny. Its ethos was to share commitment, opportunity and sacrifice, all on behalf of the community that citizens themselves comprised.
Later democratic constitutions through history designed different versions of a “citizen community,” though inevitably systems of checks and balances, and “mixed approaches” ended up creating conflict among different groups of stakeholders.
Far-seeing politicians have tried to mitigate that, as Cartledge points out, by redefining, and shifting the emphasis of freedom—away from “freedom to [do something, e.g.. having a say in one’s governance],” to “freedom from [interference, e.g. protection of personal rights].” One great advance of the Roman constitution, as he explained, was a broader extension of citizenship than Greeks allowed in their time, providing a range of special protections to people in the growing imperial state. But the privileges did not include the same kind of freedom that Greek citizens enjoyed—while the sacrifices Roman citizens were asked to make (military and financial) were comparably onerous.
From ‘We’ To ‘Me’
The imbalance between rights and sacrifices has often made democracies vulnerable to popular backlash. Thus Cartledge again: “The demise of the Roman Republic was a collapse of the ‘culture of we’ into a ‘culture of me.’ Power-hungry generals built factions of citizens to back them first in political power and then out-and-out civil war, trading military support for grants of conquered land.”
“The breakdown of community has throughout history been a driving causes of democracy’s failure. You can even argue that the rise of philosophical schools in the fourth century BCE and later, and the turning away from community towards personal ethics and knowledge contributed to the loss of Greek democracy.”
How much, in our current culture, are the growing popularity of self-help and personal improvement, advocacy for deep individual rights versus community prerogatives stoking the decline of democracy today? Is there a way to rebalance the mix, to recapture a “greater good”?
“The golden age of Roman Republicanism came in the third and second centuries BCE, when their proto-empire was growing across the Mediterranean world—providing benefits for a wider population and new material wealth for social generosity. And the terrific expansion and prosperity of the fifth century Athenian empire—further enabled by their use of slave labor—greatly enhanced that city-state’s ability to invite, and also pay for, all citizens to participate in self-governance.”
Elite Competition And Sauve Qui Peut
“During the most vital years of Athenian democracy, the danger of unequal distribution of wealth, and corresponding social volatility, was offset by a strong culture of public contribution by the rich. Wealthy people were heavily taxed to pay for public festivals, naval ships, and athletic games (“liturgies”). The genius of the model was how it created benign competition at the top—the elite were constantly trying to outdo each other in giving the most magnificent gifts to the public good. Everyone benefited.”
“But the mechanism was fragile. When Athenians started losing militarily to the Spartans, rich people blamed the demos and began resenting public contributions. Athens suffered a couple of oligarchic revolutions against its democracy, and the delicate social compact always broke down into well-to-do vs. poor.” In the final phase of its democracy, the wealthy elite abandoned public liturgies, and instead used their money to curry political favor with the new Macedonian rulers who conquered Athens in about 330 BCE.” Community became sauve qui peut.
5. Democracy’s viability is tested under external pressure and survival is never guaranteed.
Different democratic systems have risen and fallen through history, noted Cartledge, often collapsing when some external shock tore apart the fabric of political community.
“When Athenian democracy yielded to its oligarchic revolutions, and then later to external conquest, those events threatened the survival of the state—breaking the social compact between rich and poor. Even great leaders—like Pericles in the fifth century— struggled to stem civil destruction in such crisis. Throughout history, war and resulting domestic strife have repeatedly undermined democratic systems–in Rome, England and France, and of course, in a very close call, your own Civil War.”
That said, Cartledge also reminded me that, on the long view, democracy in its various forms has bounced back repeatedly, evolving into different configurations of power-sharing. “But you can’t take the survival of any constitutional system—including our current ones–for granted. Athens’ version did eventually disappear, as did the Republicanism in Rome.”
Consider now today’s challenges. If war erupts from simmering conflicts with Russia, China, or North Korea, will our own constitutional way of life necessarily survive? Will our leadership be strong enough not just to prevail in a showdown of force but also to preserve civic freedom, equality and decision-making?
Photo: Shutterstock
A Blueprint For Leaders
Paul Cartledge closed with a few practical suggestions for strengthening current democracy.
1. Double down but improve the system of checks and balances. For Cartledge, the growing populist empowerment—proliferating referendums, mobilizing movements through social media and the like—now threatens stable democracy. Rather than abandon our “mixed constitution” he argues simply to strengthen it—make it simpler, more nimble, and ultimately more participative, while still preserving its core of check and balances.
2. Revitalize representation and political parties. Cartledge argues that the size and scale of nation states, and their breadth of population will continue to require representative government; similarly political parties—“though full of various compromises, these are still the best way to unify different policy points of view, and avoid fragmentation.” But he also believes both can do more to engage citizens—not necessarily as decision-making arms, but for discussion, town-hall conversation and debates, and generally to include many more people of all backgrounds in the broader formulation of policy choices. If there is a good use of social media and technology, he adds, it should be more for this— to engage citizens in a more vital way, but not as a substitute for decision and policy-making by elected representatives.
3. Build (and rebuild) a stronger sense of political community, especially through the education of citizens. Cartledge pointed repeatedly to the importance of “community” in different democracies, and emphasized why an educated and informed citizenry must be one of the cornerstones of such culture.
Founding Fathers at the U.S. Constitutional Convention–as depicted on the $2 bill. (photo: Shutterstock)
The January 2017 stock market is showing plenty of optimism, but the political sphere swirls with anxiety. People—of all partisan stripes—worry about our democracy’s decay. Will the political system of freedom and equality as we know it survive? Will it weather the leadership style of the U.S. president-elect? Meet the challenges of rising populist nationalism and growing totalitarian regimes?
Too Much Incrementalism?
Alas, most ideas about “fixing democracy’s problems” seem narrow, self-serving or incremental: abolish the Electoral College so the popular vote always prevails; end gerrymandered voting districts, so representation is more fairly mixed; support President Obama to pass more executive orders to protect against abuses by Donald Trump.
Is that really enough to save democracy? Maybe we need to swing for the fences—not just mend the procedural edges, but instead rethink the whole system today. Why not really disrupt our powdered-wig representative model that’s become a morass of distant legislators, conniving lobbyists, and aloof commanders-in-chief (#DTS)?
Dr. Roslyn Fuller, Waterford Institute of Technology (photo: Brad Ateke)
No, not armed insurrection. Fuller wants more literal revolution: circle back to democracy’s invention, in Greece about 440 BCE. What’s needed now, she insists, is recapturing the spirit and mechanisms of deeply participative and engaged political communities, as ancient Athenians once created. We should rediscover the world of real civic life, as when, in the shadow of the Parthenon, every citizen served, deliberated, and voted month after month to steer their own futures.
The Parthenon of ancient Athens (photo: Shutterstock)
Giving People The Power
Beasts and Gods (invoking Aristotle’s famous discussion of man’s socio-political nature) makes an impassioned case for why, in an age of declining political institutions and growing social media, it’s time to double down on democracy’s true essence: full-on civic engagement by all, hands-on contributions to the government by everyday people, and organized mass decision-making. Forget fixing gerrymandering or changing rules for lobbyists: just give millions of people a direct role in making their own laws, and deciding how their money will be spent. Imagine if you someday had real and regular say in the kind of healthcare you’d have, the schools you want for your children, what to do about terrorism, and the taxes you’d pay–and that you even played an occasional hand in implementing the policies?
Of course our founding fathers explicitly steered the U.S. Constitution away from such “people power” (let us beware of “mob rule”!)—but Fuller believes their design decisions have wrought debilitating, unintended consequences: representational elections that neither represent nor excite people; game-changing influence of wealthy interests; decision-making gridlocked in a blindingly fast global economy.
Ancient statue of Aristotle, ancient political philosopher (photo: Shutterstock)Ancient statue of Pericles, general and democratic leader of classical Athens (photo: Shutterstock)
Channeling Pericles And Aristotle
The book begins with an edgy and acerbic question: if modern democracy is so great, why is everyone now so unhappy? Fuller answers coolly, buttressed with plenty of data: today’s system simply isn’t engaging the people it’s supposed to empower. She goes on to explain why small fixes won’t ultimately fulfill freedom-loving citizens; and then, as if channeling Pericles and Aristotle, insists that western civilization once created a better version—and whose time for rediscovery has now come.
Ms. Fuller next explores adapting the model and spirit of Athenian direct democracy to a modern world hungry for more self-governance. Fuller is no antiquarian—she doesn’t envision chiton-wearing citizens arguing before water clocks in the open air. She simply advocates replacing the musty 18th century constitutions we still live under with the classical practices and humanistic values that, some two-plus millennia in the past, allowed hardworking farmers and shepherds to govern themselves successfully.
Social Technology For The Best Political Purposes
So how to reinvent this ancient model for ourselves? Perhaps predictably, this young legal scholar emphasizes the promise of technology, imagining an institutionalization of the real time conversations, debates and decision-making already underway across social media networks today. She further argues that technology could help scale up classical-style democratic experiments emerging in a few American cities and other parts of the western world, such as virtual open town meetings (where citizens debate schools, traffic patterns, or plans for affordable housing, etc.); and participative budgeting (providing opportunities for everyone to see and vote on priorities for local spending).
Her discussion at times seems incomplete–but in fairness, this 260 page book is less a reengineering blueprint than a visionary thought experiment. Skeptics will nitpick many of the suggestions, and scorn the incomparability between ancient and modern– but I guarantee Ms. Fuller will make you think differently about the trillion dollar bureaucracies we call democracy today.
In Search Of A Few Core Principles
When I spoke to Roslyn Fuller, I asked her to extend her analysis by offering some “core principles” of the classical democracy, to frame a more accessible summary. We kept the discussion general enough to be applicable to both political and business contexts (since many companies today are also wrestling with democratic-style management.)
Summarizing a complex system of institutions and human beliefs is no easy task. But the list that follows can get any would-be democratic revolutionary started:
1. First understand why democracy matters. Advocates of current democracy stress the freedom, equality, and personal rights it guarantees citizens. Fuller argues that the fully participative, Greek-style version produced greater justice and performance for society overall. “The Athenian model surpasses modern democracies in three ways: greater legitimacy—when everyone is involved and deciding the critical issues of the state, there’s no filter of depending on some representative who can pervert your preferences; greater stability—instead of the every four year big fight about elections, participative democracy is more of an ‘agile organization’—ongoing deliberation and decision-making, and thus smoother adaptation to change; and greater accountability—there’s nobody else to blame when the policies are truly decided by the people who also have to implement them.”
2. Clarify and build the member community. Fuller acknowledged that the Athenian system was as much about the strength of a community as it was about egalitarian institutions and processes. “Obviously it’s difficult to recreate the kind of cohesive relationships they had. Like it or not, we’re all organized in nation states now. But there would be opportunities to build more truly democratic communities on a smaller scale, in cities and regions. And technology is now unifying groups of people across time and space; networked democracy is an emerging new model. But whatever the scale, without the right human relationships—and a clear understanding of who ‘belongs’ to the engaged community—the classical model won’t work.”
3. Create “pull” for large-scale participation: Declining voter participation bedevils modern democracy, according to Fuller. She argues we need to make it much more worthwhile for people to play a role in their own governance—in lots of different ways. “I don’t suggest citizens should be required to vote, but they ought to be paid for their civic service, of all sorts. That was a real innovation in the Athenian revolution. When you couple material incentives with giving everyone an opportunity to do real work and decision-making, you’re promoting participation that will build more legitimacy and accountability. When people see the value of engaging, they will engage—and democracy becomes more vibrant.”
4. Amateurs and experts side by side. The author of Beasts and Gods was passionate about undoing the modern “tyranny of the elites”– but also calling on expertise when needed. “Ancient democracy was more alive because a large part of the government was literally chosen by lottery. Citizens took turns serving in different public and administrative offices, and on juries—all the time, regardless of their previous experience. But some critical positions were also reserved for people with demonstrated skills (chosen by vote). The military generals—on whom the city’s survival depended—were not amateurs.”
“The model thrived through the combination of deep knowledge when needed, coupled with everyday experience and perspective that kept things practical and meaningful for citizens.”
5. Decision making that’s fluid, efficient and consequent for all. Athenian citizens argued and voted to make policy on an ongoing basis—but decisions weren’t based on consensus, nor was there tolerance for endless debate.
“Issues and court cases were debated within rigid time frames. Many people think of democracy as a talking shop, but efficiency was actually a major priority for ancient democrats,” commented Fuller. “They believed in closure and had procedures designed specifically to prevent entrenched factions from forming, and, above all, from paralyzing effective state action. They recognized that there was a point when arguments had run their course, and that they were better off throwing their weight behind a democratic decision than seeking to wage a war of attrition among themselves. They knew they had to survive as a community before they could prosper as individuals.”
6. Ensure the value and civility of community communication. Fuller attributes much of today’s democratic decline to media practices. “Communication is essential to creating community, and we live in a world very different than ancient times—where people were primarily informed by public debate, or by friends or family members. Today’s mass media now dominates thinking; and it has the potential to unfairly shape and trivialize important issues (which it often does).”
“These imbalances are similarly reflected in social media, which can be unduly negative. There is little point to being constructive when you don’t have the power to implement positive outcomes. And lacking that power, people have learned the dubious pleasure of ‘venting.’ We’ve come to a point where a stream of criticism is seen as helpful conversation– rarely the case. A participatory community needs to focus on constructive outcomes.”
“Unless democratic leaders have the courage to elevate the discussion of important problems, their participative community will fail.”
The Moment Is Now
I closed by asking Ms. Fuller why reinventing classical democracy was now so urgent.
“People everywhere have good ideas–but also pent-up frustration. They’re just not being listened to. Democracy can’t be an every four-year event anymore. Technology affords us better means to engage and tap into those being governed, and ultimately letting all of us govern ourselves.”
“Of course more will be needed than just technology. But if we don’t create the mechanisms to harness the talent and energy of all people in democracies, our governmental systems are just going to collapse—or be taken over by somebody else.”
Instead of the usual electoral horserace questions, a recent focus group of citizens was simply asked about their vision for a better nation. Peggy Noonan, the WSJ columnist who reported the story, reprised the group’s answers–“a solid education system,” “no more war,” “people with joy in their work,” “our country leading again, including in morals”—and then reflected that the respondents were looking back to “when things seemed assumptive of progress.” She noted the comments, unexpectedly, emphasized not individual desires, but rather “hopes [that] were communal, societal.”
In Search Of Hope
I was less surprised than Ms. Noonan. Amidst rapid global economic and social change, as institutions and hierarchies erode, people everywhere are trying to find—or rebuild—communal values, to restore some collective optimism to their lives. It’s happening throughout society: in neighborhoods, towns, businesses, churches.
And they are searching for a new kind of leadership to help with that. Many Americans, looking beyond this toxic election, are wondering about something more universal: how do the best leaders actually succeed in “building community”—whatever the would-be community might be?
The ‘How’ Of Community Leadership
That question began my recent conversation with Richard Harwood, a practitioner and thinker who since 1988 has devoted himself to such inquiry. His Harwood Institute for Public Innovation has helped transform thousands of communities around the world, strengthening collective progress among people who share some common purpose.
(Photo: Corey Wilson. Permission The Harwood Institute)
Though renewing American rust-belt cities first put his Institute on the map, Rich’s experience has since grown to include lessons for leaders of many kinds of communities, whether geographical, regional, or virtual; whether the relationships are political, economic, or business strategic.
It Begins—And Ends—With The People
What unifies it all for Rich Harwood is people: building a community always comes back to the core, its human members. As he explained, unless a leader lives that truth, no progress can ever be sustained.
“But ironically, the more ‘community’ has become important to leaders—as it has in recent years—the more they’ve squeezed out the human element as they try to ‘fix the problems.’ They gloss over what people really care about. A new generation of technocrats has turned community building into a Gantt chart, endless initiatives following a schedule. Even worse, they often frame challenges around their own good—not the common good.”
Turning Outward
Rich went on to describe how would-be community leaders must “turn outward”—away from themselves, instead focusing horizontally on members, their relationships, and their collective yearnings for progress. “Great leaders build community from the outside in, talking and listening to people in their real lives. They abandon the heroic ego of directing top down.”
Six lessons for community leaders seemed particularly distinctive:
Hope And Understanding
1.Your most important job is to help people have hope, and believe in the possibility of progress.
“Members of a struggling community may talk about problems, but what motivates them is hope for a better life, and belief that they might somehow get there. Great leaders will acknowledge challenges—but they rapidly pivot to summon a ‘can-do’ spirit among as many members as possible. Nothing’s more important than sparking a sense that if people work together, they will succeed.”
2. You earn credibility as a leader through authentic understanding of the community itself.
Instead of raw power, Harwood’s approach stresses leadership credibility: becoming trusted as someone who truly understands the opportunities, traditions, networks and relationships which give life to a community. A good leader doesn’t mandate; he or she co-creates.
“Regrettably,” Rich explained, “’community understanding’ often gets defined as data—a poverty rate, school drop-out statistics, etc. Of course data is useful—but it can crowd out what’s really on people’s minds. A leader must combine data with ‘public knowledge’: what people are feeling, talking about, and aspiring to, even if those collective feelings are out of sight.”
“A few years ago, we worked in Mobile County, Alabama, to help accelerate school reform that had been bogged down ever since the 1954 Supreme Court decision of Brown vs Board of Education. Polarizing race issues stymied progress: many whites blamed bad schools on unwillingness of blacks to improve their lives, while many blacks felt the root cause was an implicit effort to maintain local segregation. The data highlighted the stagnant student test results, low graduation rates, declining spending, etc.”
Photo: Shutterstock
“But when we brought together the various community and civic groups, a steering committee formed to engage citizens about their shared aspirations. Local leaders were surprised to learn that white rural people felt just as neglected educationally as members of the black community. The conversations sparked interest for more people, both black and white, to get involved, working together to improve the schools. This new ‘public knowledge’ stimulated critical collaboration that ultimately led to increased educational funding, new math and science programs, and improved teaching and test results.”
Does Political Identity Matter?
“How important is political identity?” I asked. “Do leaders have to be ‘the right color’ or ethnic origin, or have deep personal experience in a community?”
“Of course those things help—but they’re not required. Most important is that you have the trust and right relationships—and achieve real understanding of people involved. You also need courage to face what will be tough challenges from some of those same people—and demonstrate back to them you really care about helping the community build itself up. Leadership can’t be about you; it has to be about everybody else.”
Building Momentum
3. Build momentum by first getting people to work together and then helping others see their progress.
Harwood prioritizes “getting people on the right trajectory”—starting and then building momentum with achievable, hope-inspiring collective work.
“Another misunderstood community leadership practice is ‘creating vision.’ Those exercises can become blue-sky, untethered from reality. People get discouraged when there’s no forward movement. Great leaders start by leading community conversations, and then guide members towards valuable but near-term achievable goals. They build on that progress over time.”
“Mobile County again serves to illustrate. The leaders there laid the foundation for measurable school reform, beginning with local discussions about people’s shared aspirations. Those first steps mobilized a sense of common purpose and public support for more educational funding; that in turn allowed the leaders to involve the broader community in making concrete reforms. As more people worked together, and saw initial success, still others joined in.
Photo: Shutterstock
4. Foster “can-do” narratives,” not disconnected storytelling.
Storytelling has become a new pillar of leadership, but Rich Harwood explained how it can sometimes be counter-productive. “People don’t need isolated tales of nostalgia or stories that don’t lead to action. Much more energizing is when leaders encourage what I call “can-do narratives”—accounts collaboratively constructed by members that are coherent, positive and forward-looking. The best of these evolve organically—laying out the trajectory people see themselves following to achieve longer-term success together.”
“I saw the power of such narratives years ago, in Battle Creek Michigan. Teams collaborating on an initial pilot project constructed a story for one of their retreats, like a Dr. Seuss kids’ book. This ‘Battle Creek Fable,’ as it came to be called, confessed why they had been struggling, and what they now wanted to achieve to improve local education, healthcare, and social services.”
“They actually acted it out as a little play at the retreat, and then later shared it more widely, as a public document. As they updated the narrative every few months, it became a chronicle about themselves–how they overcame initial barriers, and then began to succeed—and where they next wanted to go. It successfully engaged others to become part of the movement.”
Everyone At The Table?
5. Lead with “pragmatic selectivity”
Another community-building myth Harwood explodes is “always getting everyone around the table.”
Photo: Shutterstock
“If you pursue that too literally, it can kill momentum– and people lose hope. An effective community leader is ruthless about making choices—who to ‘run with’ (the right partners, citizens most committed to real change, etc.), where to productively start collective efforts, how fast to move, etc.”
“The right balance is to be ‘opportunistically inclusive’—work with whoever is authentically willing to collaborate on goals most people agree on. In the Bible, Abraham had a tent that was open on all sides—so that travelers from everywhere could come in. The good community leader, like Abraham, must be ready to accept new travelers once they are ready to join the collective effort. You should never exclude anyone who legitimately wants to help make progress—but the leader must avoid getting drawn into arguments with naysayers who harp on problems instead of solutions.”
Virtual Or Not
6. Lead even more intentionally if the community is virtual
Over the years Harwood’s practice has expanded into helping leaders of regional networks, extended virtual partnerships, and larger, technology-enabled communities. He emphasizes that community-building leadership, whatever the setting, follows most of the same principles that work in smaller towns and cities.
“Building hope, creating momentum for progress, being selective in where and how you work to create initial trust—the practices are essentially the same. But at greater scale, or in virtual situations, the leader does have to be even more intentional, almost exaggerated at times–to help people work together when they don’t know one another or even see one another.”
“With virtual, the typical pitfall is over-emphasizing technology, instead of people’s hopes and aspirations. Remember, virtual communities will likely not be people’s primary source of relationships—and it’s easier for them to opt out.”
“Larger, and virtual community-building calls for particularly focused leadership: to really understand the public knowledge across members, and being clever in packaging it so people understand one another’s deeper aspirations. The leader must also take extra care to nourish the broader context that fosters collective action—opportunities for people to collaborate on something winnable, encouraging face-to-face relationships whenever possible, creating more easily understood narratives when members are online.”
Why All This Now?
I closed by asking Rich why building better communities today really mattered—and why it mattered so much to him.
“Everywhere I look, people are losing hope. They see a status quo that isn’t working. We’ve come to an inflection point, too many people sensing we can’t go on like this.”
“But at whatever level or in whatever domain you’re living and working, the greatest source of progress through history has always been ‘the community.’ Tomorrow’s best leaders must do whatever they can to rekindle the can-do spirit of that fundamentally human invention. It’s the challenge that still wakes me up every morning.”
