David Blandford, a Penn State
colleague and fellow member of our local Torch Club, said something at a Torch
Club meeting last year that has stuck with me. How people feel about taxation, he said, has less to do with
the amount that they are taxed and more to do with how those taxes are
used. Tax evasion in 17th
century Britain, he told the Club, was rooted not in the tax itself, but in the
fact that the British government used the taxes to carry on foreign wars that
were of no benefit to the average Englishman. On the other hand, modern Scandinavians are among the
most highly taxed citizens on earth, and they are also the happiest, because
tax revenues are returned in the form of benefits: health care, work release for new parents, old age benefits,
etc.
Americans
are currently taxed at a much lower rate than Scandinavians. In fact, we are taxed at a lower rate
today than was the case just a generation ago, before the so-called Reagan
Revolution. And yet, we are among
the most unhappy of industrialized nations. Mother Theresa pitied us, saying that we are poor in
spirit. Why? Well, one
reason may be that, like Britain in the 17th century, we are
increasingly disconnected from our government. We are afloat, unmoored to our sense of citizenship that
gives us identity and a sense of social purpose. Our waste of public resources to support private greed is a
symptom of a government that is attending more to business interests than to
the needs and interests of its citizens—in short, a government that is failing
to do its real job.
The
recent mass murder in Aurora, Colorado, is another sign of our alienation not
just from government but from community.
The tragedy sparked a brief national discussion of gun control, which
noted that, among the 23 most industrialized nations, the U.S. ranks first in
gun murders. Why? I suggest that one reason is that we
increasingly are estranged from the communities that used to support us. We are a nation of immigrants and,
unlike the nations from which our ancestors came, our cultural heritage is
thin. Our connection with our
geographically defined community is made thinner by globalization.
Taking
a longer view, this disconnect may also be a symptom of a broader change that
is overtaking our society as technology and globalization redefine “community”
and challenge us to seek a new identity. I believe that the changes we are now experiencing are
much more profound than we tend to recognized. It think it is safe to posit that not only are we
moving from the Industrial Era to a new Information Era, but that we have left
Western Civilization behind in the process. The 20th century, with its two world wars and its
ideological Cold War, was the last century of that old world. The new civilization is just now taking
form. It is being shaped, in part,
by technology and globalization, to be sure. As Fareed Zakaria wrote in The Post-American World, the change is not about the downfall of
Western life, but about the “rise of the rest”—a new global culture where power
and influence are more distributed and diverse.
I’ve
been reading Grace Lee Boggs’ recent book, The
Next American Revolution. In
it, she argues that, in this new world, the challenge is not simply to
over-turn the existing power structure, but to revolutionize our interactions
with community at all levels. “We
are beginning to understand,” she writes, “that the world is always being made
and never finished; that activism can be the journey rather than the arrival;
that struggle doesn’t always have to be confrontational but can take the form
of reaching out to find common ground with the many ‘others’ in our society who
are also seeking ways out from alienation, isolation, privatization, and
dehumanization by corporate globalization” (p. 48).
Boggs
quotes Meg Wheatley, who describes the new culture as “this exquisitely
connected world” and notes, “Because of these unseen connections, there is
potential value in working anywhere in the system” (p. 50). The implication is that, as
individuals, we can help shape the new world from wherever we find ourselves in
our society. This is a powerful
new way to think about the dynamics of change in a democratic society. It also
describes the paradigm shift in social identity that we are experiencing: a new social context that encourages
individuals in a globalized society to reconnect with community at the local
level and, perhaps, with professional and social communities that are not
defined by geography.
Revolution, Boggs argues, is the cumulative impact of many, many local
actions. “In other words,” she
writes on her own career as an activist, “our revolution had to be for the
purpose of accelerating our evolution to a higher plateau of Humanity” (p.70).
And
this is where we have gone wrong in the years that span my adult life and those
of many of us Baby Boomers who had such ambitions for our society. Somewhere along the line, we’ve lost
our passion for “accelerating our evolution to a higher plateau of Humanity” and
settled for a kind of comfort that dulls our moral sense. The rich get rich, but we are all the poorer for it.