Join us for our July 29th Confab on Event Closings

Join us on Tuesday, July 29th from 2-3pm Eastern (11-12 Pacific) for NCDD’s next “Confab Call.” Register today to secure your spot!

Confab bubble imageThis will be a different kind of Confab. We’ll be tackling a very practical challenge that many dialogue and deliberation practitioners face, and that NCDD itself faces every time we plan an NCDD conference. The confab will dig into challenges and strategies for planning and managing effective closings at participatory events.

We have four great practitioners who will serve as conversation starters: Lisa Heft, Adrian Segar, Tim Merry and Susanna Haas Lyons. All have extensive experience closing large-scale events using approaches such as Open Space, World Cafe, Conferences That Work, Art of Hosting and 21st Century Town Meetings.

The confab will be an informal conversation (no pre-planned presentations!) where our all-star cast of practitioners will share different strategies for closing participatory events (with an emphasis on larger events). NCDD’s director, Sandy Heierbacher, will share some of the ways we’ve closed our conferences in the past, and what some of our challenges and concerns are. For instance, for large participatory events like NCDD conferences, how can you involve everyone in the room in a way that is powerful and meaningful, without being too cheesy or taking too much time?

We’re encouraging members of our 2014 conference planning team to be on the call and participate by asking questions and sharing their own experiences, and we’ll likely brainstorm ideas for closing this year’s conference. We look forward to a fun, productive confab that serves both our community and the upcoming conference!

Promoting Civic Engagement in Schools in Non-Democratic Settings: Transforming the Approach and Practices of Iranian Educators

Author: 
Established in 2011, the Online School of Civic Education (the Online School) is intended to give Iranian teachers and educators the opportunity to reflect, experiment, and create classroom experiences aimed at teaching their students how to think, rather than what to think. The Online School was developed to provide teachers...

watching a community form

The 2014 Summer Institute of Civic Studies consists of 24 people who differ by discipline and profession, age, gender, race/ethnicity, ideology/religion, and nationality. (India, Iran, Ukraine, German-speaking Northern Italy, France, Britain, the Netherlands, Francophone Canada, Mexico, and the US are represented.)

Before the Institute began, I asked each member to tell me as many as five general principles that she or he strives to live by; up to five truths about life that she sees as relevant to her moral decisions; and up to three methods that she uses to make moral decisions. I then gave them back their own lists of ideas and asked them to link any pairs that they saw as strongly connected. That allowed me to map each person’s moral worldview as a network of ideas.

The resulting maps differed not only in their content, but also in their form. Here is a network that is small (just six nodes) and largely centralized around a single idea: “Love the world.” This individual felt that Loving the World implied three other very general ideas. He added two more ideas that he chose not to connect to anything. That produced a disconnected network with a highly centralized core:

subject1

In contrast, this person produced a much larger and denser network in which many nodes are connected but there is no clear core:

subject2

I believe that moral reasoning is intrinsically social–we believe what we do because of our interactions with other people, and we have better beliefs if our interactions go well. I think we each start with the network of ideas that our context gives us, and our duty is to improve it through interaction. I posit that different network forms are better or worse for interaction.

Because some members of the Institute provided identical (or substantially identical) responses to the questions I had asked before we met, I could graph all of their ideas and connections as one network. Once we convened at Tufts, I gave them opportunities to discuss their own network maps with their colleagues. I did not encourage them to link their ideas together, but some chose to do so, and others simply borrowed ideas from their fellow participants. I edited the database when people changed their responses. As a result, the class map became gradually denser. Here is an illegibly small image of all 272 ideas and how they relate in the minds of our participants on Day 6 of the Institute. (Responses are color-coded by individual.)

subject3

I would posit that we have formed an intellectual community to the degree that the individual networks have linked up. This community is not defined by shared premises. There is no one idea that everyone shares–in fact, not even close–and several ideas on the map are mutually contradictory. (To name an evident example, the map includes both “God is loving and kind” and “God is dead–everything is permitted.”) The community is rather defined by its density and connectedness. These are matters of degree. Ten nodes are completely disconnected, and the network as a whole is only 1.5% as connected as it would be if every node were directly linked to every other one. But we have more of a community than we had on Day 1, as any participant would attest.

By the way, this means that John Rawls was wrong. Rawls saw a “plurality of reasonable but incompatible comprehensive doctrines” as a “fact” about the world, or at least about the modern world. He explained: “a reasonable doctrine is an exercise of theoretical reason: it covers the major religious, philosophical, and moral aspects of human life in a more or less consistent and coherent manner. It organizes and characterizes recognized values to that they are compatible with each other and express an intelligible view of the world” (Political Liberalism, New York: Columbia University Press, 1993, pp. xvii, 59).

Do we see a comprehensive doctrine here? Or two doctrines, or three? I know that the group includes an observant Mexican Catholic, a couple of explicit atheists, a highly Kantian liberal, and some Deweyan communitarian pragmatists. I can identify their favored ideas on the map. But I do not see separate islands of thought. A few people have organized their networks, made their ideas mutually compatible, and could summarize them by identifying one or more core premises from which they think the rest follow. Most people could not do that. To “express [their] intelligible view[s] of the world,” they would have to show their whole maps, which now connect to other people’s maps.

Diversity is a fact. A diversity of “comprehensive doctrines” is not.

The post watching a community form appeared first on Peter Levine.

Distinguishing Collective Wisdom from “the Wisdom of Crowds”

This reflective piece comes from NCDD blogger Tom Atlee of the Co-Intelligence Project. Tom’s original post can be found at www.tomatleeblog.com/?p=175327099.

The popular book “The Wisdom of Crowds” says a lot about the remarkable accuracy of thousands of people making guesses about something that has a real but unknown answer now or in the future. This phenomenon is fascinating but it doesn’t provide us with actual wisdom to guide our collective future. What would real collective wisdom look like, and how might we find or co-create it?

A friend just sent me this essay from the BBC: “‘Wisdom of the crowd’: The myths and realities” by Philip Ball.

I feel a need to respond to it – publicly and urgently.

I think it is unfortunate that James Surowiecki’s 2005 book “The Wisdom of Crowds” – which is a perfectly good book as far as it goes – has colonized the most popular term for collective wisdom so that it is hard to talk about the subject in any other terms than his, and be heard.

But think about it for a minute. “The Wisdom of Crowds” is about how accurate (or not) dozens or thousands of people are when they are guessing the number of beans in a bottle or predicting who is going to win the World Cup. The number of times their average collective guestimates are accurate is remarkable – which is the subject of Surowiecki’s book. But is that what wisdom is really about?

If some individual could predict the outcome of this year’s US elections, would we call them wise? Is that what we proclaim Christ or Buddha as wise for doing?

I would love it if we would reserve the terms “wisdom” and “wise” for guidance that makes life better – especially useful guidance that makes life better for most or all of us – including all the creatures of this living, fragile Earth – over the long term. That’s what we need wisdom for, now more than ever.

The traditions of the world’s great religions are one source of that wisdom, if we are mindful and heartful about which aspects of them we choose to follow, such as the near-universal Golden Rule of treating others the ways we would like to be treated. That’s wise. Various forms of systems thinking – from shamanism to ecology and complexity sciences – offer such wisdom because they deal with the wholeness and interconnectedness of the world. Nature’s ways of solving problems – as revealed by the sciences of biomimicry and evolution – also offers such guidance because nature’s solutions (and ways of generating solutions) have arisen and proven themselves through millions of years of testing.

And then there’s the processes through which we make our collective decisions. Here Surowiecki and his followers and critics have a lot to say. Surowieckians stress the need for the diversity and independence of the participants, noting that the more they talk with each other or are exposed to each other’s ideas, the less accurate their predictions and estimates become.

While this may be true enough for their “prediction markets”, it is tragic advice for those of us seeking to generate true collective wisdom to address our collective problems and crises. For this latter purpose it is essential that we talk together. But the quality of our talking can make or break our wisdom-generating capacity. Conversations that creatively use our different perspectives and ways of thinking will generate more wisdom than debates in which different “sides” try to win or where certain voices colonize the conversation while others remain silent and unheard. Furthermore, people who feel well heard tend to become more open to hearing others and more able to join in seeking deeper and higher forms of insight and co-creativity together – all sources of greater wisdom.

Once we have the capacity to convene and carry out such generative conversations, then the diversity of the participants becomes a very special treasure. We want diversity that covers as many relevant perspectives as possible – all the different types of stakeholders or a good random selection of our community or everyone involved in a conflict – and different personality types and different roles in how an issue will play out. Not all differences are the same – and some are much more important for group wisdom than others. But what we don’t want is all people of like mind reinforcing their pre-existing agreements or two polarized sides reinforcing their pre-existing disagreements.

We want people in such conversations to have available to them whatever information is relevant to their shared inquiry and challenge. Hopefully that pool of knowledge and perspectives will include some of the kinds of material noted in the “sources of wisdom” paragraph above. And it should be understandable, balanced, and readily engaged with.

Finally, we want people to be able to show up as whole human beings. Reason and passion are a dynamic duo that – although they each have their own center of gravity – are totally dependent on each other in practice. We cannot make a rational final choice without a desire for particular kind of outcome, a desire that arises from our emotion, our passion, our felt sense of need or aspiration. On the other hand, our collective desires and aspirations need facts and logic to tie them to the real world and understand the likely outcomes of this or that initiative we might take.

Of course, we also need creative imagination – co-creative imagination – to weave our possibilities and pieces of the puzzle into proposals we all want to put energy into. So the extent of our consensus – how well has our final proposal addressed the longings and concerns of all involved? – is another source of wisdom, indicating that we have taken into account that much of what’s really involved with the issue we were addressing. A high level of consensus also means that our proposal will tap into the implementing energy of many of the people involved, thereby minimizing how much top-down, outside-in effort, direction, and resources will be needed to achieve the results we seek – which is another piece of what makes some guidance or action wise.

Of course we actually don’t know what proposals will prove wise until long after the fact. How well is what we proposed actually working out in reality? Is it producing what we hoped for? Is it producing unexpected side effects that we don’t want? These questions don’t just address our success or failure. Most importantly, they point us back to our process. Have we set things up to review how well we’re doing, so we can catch problems early on or, if necessary, start over again? Is our process iterative or ongoing such that we exercise a ceaseless collective intelligence that feeds our collective learning and adaptation? A big part of wisdom is the humility to learn from experience and not just barge ahead regardless.

There is so much “we” know about how to do this well – and so much more that we need to learn to do it better, to upgrade what we know so that it is powerful enough to deal with climate change, peak oil, economic transformation, a growing and aging population, unexpected impacts from powerful new technologies, and so much more. This is what the wisdom of groups and communities and whole social systems – all the forms of collective wisdom – needs to be about.

Prediction markets are a part of that, but a truly tiny part. Most of the wisdom we need will come from our capacity to do the above conversation-based collective learning and co-creativity in the context of a rich, wisdom-serving informational environment that not only tolerates diversity but hungers for it and knows how to use it well.

All our futures depend on it.

Coheartedly,
Tom

Reversing the Anomie Trend May Not Be Too Difficult to Achieve

The recent decline in moral norms is, I believe, relatively superficial. It reflects frustration with the political status quo rather than its outright rejection. People are frustrated because they feel they don’t have a voice.

This is the common pattern we've seen in recent years:

  • Americans demand a greater voice in shaping the decisions that directly affect their lives. This demand is repeatedly unfulfilled.
  • In frustration, the public’s mistrust of our institutions, inattention to important issues, and general cynicism all grow stronger.
  • Elites often seem contemptuous of the views of average Americans. This attitude contributes to the public’s frustration.
  • Elites also tend to define problems in technical terms that the general public doesn’t understand, exacerbating the public’s feelings of isolation.
  • Both Democrats and Republicans show a disregard for the public’s voice in shaping policy initiatives.
People are frustrated because they feel they don’t have a voice.

My studies of American public opinion and changing values over the past five decades lead me to the conclusion that American concern for the common good has not been destroyed or fatally harmed. It lurks just beneath the surface of today’s extreme individualism. With the right kind of leadership, its potency could be readily renewed.

The best way to reverse the trend toward normlessness is to apply a bigger dose of democracy. When leaders show genuine sincerity in inviting people to participate, the public responds positively. Experience shows that when people are convinced that their point of view will be heard, their cynicism disappears and they readily become engaged.


Rebooting Democracy is a blog authored by Public Agenda co-founder Dan Yankelovich. While the views that Dan shares in his blog should not be interpreted as representing official Public Agenda positions, the purpose behind the blog and the spirit in which it is presented resonate powerfully with our values and the work that we do. To receive Rebooting Democracy in your inbox, subscribe here.

Looking Closer at “Mixed Results” in Civic Participation

One our ever-insightful NCDD members, Tiago Peixoto, shared a summary of some important civic participation research that shows that “mixed results” of participation efforts say more when we delineate between “tactical” or “strategic” interventions. We’ve shared Tiago’s piece from his DemocracySpot blog below, and you can find the original here.


Social Accountability: What Does the Evidence Really Say?

democracy spot logoSo what does the evidence about citizen engagement say? Particularly in the development world it is common to say that the evidence is “mixed”. It is the type of answer that, even if correct in extremely general terms, does not really help those who are actually designing and implementing citizen engagement reforms.

This is why a new (GPSA-funded) work by Jonathan Fox, “Social Accountability: What does the Evidence Really Say” is a welcome contribution for those working with open government in general and citizen engagement in particular. Rather than a paper, this work is intended as a presentation that summarizes (and disentangles) some of the issues related to citizen engagement.

Before briefly discussing it, some definitional clarification. I am equating “social accountability” with the idea of citizen engagement given Jonathan’s very definition of social accountability:

Social accountability strategies try to improve public sector performance by bolstering both citizen engagement and government responsiveness.

In short, according to this definition, social accountability is defined, broadly, as “citizen participation” followed by government responsiveness, which encompasses practices as distinct as Freedom Of Information law campaigns, participatory budgeting, and referenda.

But what is new about Jonathan’s work? A lot, but here are three points that I find particularly important, based on a very personal interpretation of his work.

First, Jonathan makes an important distinction between what he defines as “tactical” and “strategic” social accountability interventions. The first type of interventions, which could also be called “naïve” interventions, are for instance those bounded in their approach (one tool-based) and those that assume that mere access to information (or data) is enough. Conversely, strategic approaches aim to deploy multiple tools and articulate society-side efforts with governmental reforms that promote responsiveness.

This distinction is important because, when examining the impact evaluation evidence, one finds that while the evidence is indeed mixed for tactical approaches, it is much more promising for strategic approaches. A blunt lesson to take from this is that when looking at the evidence, one should avoid comparing lousy initiatives with more substantive reform processes. Otherwise, it is no wonder that “the evidence is mixed.”

Second, this work makes an important re-reading of some of the literature that has found “mixed effects”, reminding us that when it comes to citizen engagement, the devil is in the details. For instance, in a number of studies that seem to say that participation does not work, when you look closer you will not be surprised that they do not work. And many times the problem is precisely the fact that there is no participation whatsoever. False negatives, as eloquently put by Jonathan.

Third, Jonathan highlights the need to bring together the “demand” (society) and “supply” (government) sides of governance. Many accountability interventions seem to assume that it is enough to work on one side or the other, and that an invisible hand will bring them together. Unfortunately, when it comes to social accountability it seems that some degree of “interventionism” is necessary in order to bridge that gap.

Of course, there is much more in Jonathan’s work than that, and it is a must read for those interested in the subject. You can download it here [PDF].

You can find the original version of this piece on Tiago’s Democracy Spot blog at http://democracyspot.net/2014/05/13/social-accountability-what-does-the-evidence-really-say.

Community Change Fellows with Generation Citizen

Today I had the pleasure of sitting in on a session with Generation Citizens’ summer Community Change Fellows. This impressive group of 14-17 year-olds come from schools across Boston and Malden.

In addition to spending their summers interning at government and non-profit organizations, they spend one day a week together developing their skills for community engagement.

The topic today was leadership and consensus building. They discussed a range of leadership styles – careful, of course, not to consider any one style “right.” They talked about the strengths and weaknesses of each style – what will that person do well? Where will they need support.

I spoke briefly about my own background and experiences.

I’d been a little nervous going into it – I’m not convinced I have any particular wisdom to impart upon the world – but I was assured that teenagers would be impressed by whatever I had to say.

So, I talked about perspective taking. That is, how important it is to realize that people come from different perspectives, that their background and experiences can really drive not only what they think, but why they think that.

Too often, people assume that everyone’s coming from the same background. What seems obvious to me because of my background may be a point that would never cross someone else’s mind.

And while one can never really know what someone’s else’s life is like, there’s a lot to be said of simply acknowledging that difference. Of recognizing that what drives you isn’t necessarily what drives me.

That both perspectives are valid. It’s just that they’re…different.

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Open access to our newest issue: “Democratic Theory and Mass Incarceration”

The new issue (vol. 23, no. 1) is devoted to a single symposium on the intersection of mass incarceration and democracy. It’s available on Project MUSE for institutional subscribers, and on JSTOR, where all the articles will be open access for the next two months!

Albert Dzur introduces the issue in “Penal Democracy.” Many of the authors responded to his account of the mistake in believing we incarcerate large numbers of people because democratic polities have chosen more punitive laws in Punishment, Participatory Democracy, and the Jury.

Bernard Harcourt discusses Foucault, Tocqueville, and the political temporality of prisons in “The Invisibility of Prisons in Democratic Theory.”

Rebecca Thorpe articulates the atrocious economic geography of white rural prison sites and black urban prisoners in “Urban Divestment, Rural Decline and the Politics of Mass Incarceration.”

Richard Dagger asks if there’s a just explanation for excessive incarceration (spoiler alert: there isn’t) in “Playing Fair with Imprisonment.”

Christopher Bennett analyzes the problem of expertise-driven incarceration and calls for common ownership of the procedures of incarceration in “What is the Core Normative Argument for Greater Democracy in Criminal Justice?

Lynne Copson defends utopian thinking against the supposed pressures of penal pragmatism in “Penal Populism and Mass Incarceration: The Promise of Utopian Thinking.”

David Green criticizes politician’s efforts to combine tough-on-crime rhetoric with ameliorative policies in “Penal Populism and the Folly of ‘Doing Good by Stealth.'”

Liz Turner criticizes the foundation of “penal populism” in the construction of non-deliberative public opinion in demographic polling in “Penal Populism, Deliberative Methods, and the Production of ‘Public Opinion on Crime and Punishment.”

Elizabeth Anderson summarizes the current state of affairs for large classes of people from whom the state has withdrawn the protection and benefit of law, which is the problem of extrajudicial punishments and status crimes in “Outlaws.”

Ian Loader and Richard Sparks summarize the findings of these papers and offer a useful way forward in “Beyond Mass Incarceration?”

what qualifies a theorist to be part of civic studies?

We are almost halfway through the 2014 Summer Institute of Civic Studies at Tufts University. A group of 24 professors, graduate students, and civic leaders from many countries (only half are from the US) are deep into discussing several thousand pages of theoretical readings. We present the readings as an emerging–and disputable–canon for a field we call “civic studies.”

What qualifies an author to be included?

I have argued here that the only serious question for human beings as members of communities is: “What should we do?” Importantly, the question is not “What should be done?” which is much more commonly addressed in modern scholarship. Thus we must reform scholarship to make it address the citizen’s essential question.

A contributor to the nascent discipline of civic studies helps us to decide what we should do. A theorist of civic studies is someone who doesn’t just address that question in a particular context (e.g., “What should we parents of X school do to improve it?”). Instead, she or he offers guidance about broad categories of situations–perhaps about all situations that confront human beings. That is the screen through which I put potential contributors to the canon of civic studies.

So far this week, we have considered Jurgen Habermas, Elinor Ostrom, Robert Putnam, Harry Boyte, Albert Dzur, and Bent Flyvbjerg. Roberto Mangabeira Unger is up next.

As an example, Habermas addresses the question, “What should we do?” roughly as follows. It is a moral question, about what is right or just to do. It is not the question: “What do we want?” nor “What does our perspective, bias, or interest cause us to want?” We may have to choose against our desires or interests. The claim that something is right is like the claim that something is true. In both cases, we put the proposition before other human beings and seek their free agreement. If, for example, I assert that it would be right or just for me to pay lower taxes, then–if the conversation is free and public–I will have to give reasons persuasive to my fellow citizens. It won’t matter what my motives are. My arguments will have to be valid from others’ perspectives.

(By the way, if I make a claim about my motives–e.g., “I really only want to pay lower taxes because I want to help others,” that is a separate proposition that can also be tested by other human beings. They can look for consistency and other evidence of sincerity. Claims of justice, truth, beauty, and sincerity require different justifications but are alike in that they are all requests for free assent and they all promote reasonable inquiry.)

Thus what we should do is (a) whatever we decide to do in a very good conversation. But that implies (b) that we must participate in such conversations. And since they do not occur automatically, we must (c) work to make them happen, which is not just a matter of organizing and facilitating discussions but also of changing the incentives and rules that apply in public life so that democratic discussions flourish more. Finally, discussion by itself is insufficient to accomplish justice, so we must (d) press the economic and political systems to respond to reasonable public opinion.

This leaves much to be worked out–and is not ultimately satisfactory to me–but it qualifies Habermas as a civic theorist.

The post what qualifies a theorist to be part of civic studies? appeared first on Peter Levine.

Inner Child

There’s something funny about watching an adult interact with a child – especially when you can’t see the child.

Has that ever happened to you? You’re walking down the street or sitting on the bus, and suddenly you notice this full-grown person – dressed for work and otherwise serious – making weird expressions and periodically smiling.

What is that person doing? You find yourself thinking – or maybe that’s just me, being somewhat judgmental. And then, just as you start to wonder if they’re having some sort of episode, you realize that there’s a small child who’s joyfully mimicking their every action.

Suddenly it all makes sense. Now it’s a reasonable way to act.

Normally, adults are so dour. Especially when commuting. They’re all business and serious and so carefully constructing a world in which they are the only inhabitant. Eye contact is frowned upon. Smiling is frowned upon. Acknowledging eachother’s existence is frown upon.

I cherish those moments when the walls come tumbling down.

I was once on a packed subway train (in Boston). Someone passed out in the middle of the car and within seconds the message was passed to the end of the car where someone could tell the driver to stop. In that moment, everyone responded as one. It was like a yelling game of telephone – the car was so full a frantic yell was the only way to get the message across. I never saw who passed out or who hit the button. But for that brief moment people interacted and did what they could to help.

And seeing an adult with a child – especially one they don’t know – is like that. For that brief little window, they come out of their box, smile and wave at the child who insists on saying “hi” to everybody, and before you know it, the adults are smiling at each other.

How precious, they say.

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