Difficulties and Dissension

There are two elements were are often – explicitly or implicitly – discouraged in public life. They are separate, but deeply inter-related and their absence or existence really get to the heart of what “good deliberation” should be.

The first issue I’m thinking of is problematizing: raising challenges and concerns that you don’t have solutions for, put time towards issues that seem insurmountably difficult (though worthwhile) to tackle.

The second issue is dissension – disagreement or conflict within a deliberation.

From what I can tell, there has been more thought put towards this second issue, with many notable theorists arguing that debate is in fact critical to the deliberative process.

In Bernard Manin’s Democratic Deliberation, he argues that diversity of perspectives – a common requirement of good deliberation is not enough. “If we wished to keep in check the force of the confirmatory bias, to which groups are particularly susceptible, we should take deliberate and affirmative measures, not just let diverse voices be heard. Conflicting arguments do not automatically get a fair hearing,” he writes.

In this way, the presence of conflict might mitigate Lynn Sanders’ concerns about power inequities going unchecked. In her article, Against Deliberation, Sanders’ eloquently outlines the core problem of assuming respect among diverse views as a core element of deliberation:  “If we assume that deliberation cannot proceed without the realization of mutual respect, and deliberation appears to be proceeding, we may even mistakenly decide that conditions of mutual respect have been achieved.”

This danger is particularly present in contexts where there is no spoken conflict – that is, as Manin argues, if there no opposing views are voiced it’s not intrinsically because no opposing views are held.

If conflicting views are brought to the fore – encouraged and regularly voiced by all present – then this could dissipate concerns about unequal power leading to the exclusion of certain voices.

On its face, resistance to raising problems that are to solve may seem like a wholly different phenomenon. But I’ve been struck by Nina Eliasoph’s observations in this regard. In her sociological work with community volunteer groups, she notes how volunteers constantly silenced discussion of big problems – with good intentions, but ultimately to the detriment of the community.

Furthermore, she connects this aversion to seemingly unsolvable problems to the tendency to avoid conflict in discussion:

“To show each other and their neighbors that regular citizens really can be effective, really can make a difference, volunteers tried to avoid issues that they considered “political.” In their effort to be open and inclusive, to appeal to regular, unpretentious fellow citizens without discouraging them, they silenced public-spirited deliberation…Community-spirited citizens judged that by avoiding “big” problems, they could better buoy their optimism. But by excluding politics from their group concerns, they kept their enormous, overflowing reservoir of concern and empathy, compassion and altruism, out of circulation, limiting its contribution to the common good.”

 

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college and the contradictions of capitalism

National attention has turned to political debates and conflicts at one flagship Land Grant state university and one Ivy League. Mizzou and Yale exemplify the whole higher education system, which is a political flashpoint–for good reasons.

On one hand, universities are designed to stand somewhat aside from the political/economic system, to be independent of the usual power structures, and to supply, teach, and encourage critical analysis. On the other hand, they are absolutely pivotal to maintaining the political/economic system that exists, with all of its flaws as well as its virtues.

Racism is the main topic of the current activism. I fully concur with the importance of racial injustice on campuses. (See Jelani Cobb‘s summary, although Conor Friedersdorf‘s response is also valuable and not diametrically opposed.)

If you want a detailed, sophisticated, critical view of racism in America, higher education is one important place to find it. Many faculty share the critical diagnosis. And the most prestigious universities supply some of the most sophisticated and trenchant criticism.

At the same time, only 4 percent of full professors in America are Black. Young White adults are twice as likely to have a college degree as young African Americans (40% versus 20%), due to an accumulating series of racial gaps in k12 promotion and retention, high school graduation, college admission and retention, and on-time graduation. Their lower college graduation rates are one indication of a generally less supportive and satisfying educational experience for students of color. Given the demographics of faculty and students, the culturally dominant group is almost always White, and they have the whole symbolic heritage of the universities behind them. Finally, these institutions exist in blatantly unjust larger communities. Mizzou is the flagship university of the state that encompasses Ferguson. Yale is in the heart of New Haven, where the NAACP reports that 25% of Black families live below the poverty line, 18.9% of Black children have asthma, and no public school sees more than 28% of its graduates achieve a college degree.

Racial issues are thus unavoidable and supply telling examples of the contradictions built into higher education. But the contradictions extend further. For instance, if you want a trenchant and sophisticated critique of Wall Street, an excellent place to look is in the classrooms and journals of the finest American universities. One stream of critique is economic, but you can also find critical views of the culture, psychology, and even the aesthetics and spirituality of 21st century capitalism. An institution like Mizzou or Yale is designed to be safe from the incentives and pressures that dominate contemporary capitalism so that it can provide an independent view; hence the rules that govern tenure, academic freedom, etc.

Yet these institutions produce the people who actually take over and profit from contemporary global capitalism. The financial services industry employs more members of the Yale class of 2013 (14.8%) than any other other field. Consulting employs another 11.6% of that class. Many more Yalies apply to but don’t get Wall Street jobs right away. And of the 18.2% who go straight to graduate school, many are heading to finance via law school or business school. From a different perspective, we can say that Wall Street is dominated by graduates of institutions like Yale.

So these colleges select the global economic elite, disproportionately choosing the children of the current elite. They expose them to four years of critique of the global economic system–some of it very gentle and subtle, and some fairly blatant. Students see implicit alternatives to contemporary capitalism when they study Dante or Buddha in a seminar room, and they get direct criticisms in social science and philosophy classes. These experiences probably sharpen their minds and skills before they proceed in disproportionate numbers to take over the dominant political/economic institutions of the world and to fund the universities that chose and prepared them so well.

All kinds of odd practices and situations arise. For instance, Yale has $2.4 million of endowment per student, sufficient to generate about $112,000 of annual revenue per student. Given Yale’s faculty/student ratio of 6.1:1, that means the university gets about $683,000 per professor per year from its endowment funds. Yet it charges the students a sticker price of more than $50,000 and constantly solicits its alumni for donations to make enrollment affordable. The institution presents itself as a tax-deductible nonprofit philanthropy devoted to light and truth, yet it is also a corporation with $23.9 billion in the bank. Many of its faculty see themselves as critics of the status quo, yet they work in an institution that replicates it.

I love these places. They have been very good to me–Yale more than any other institution. They have broadened my mind and given me whatever skills and passions I have for analyzing social justice. They create zones of debate and critique that are freer and more vibrant than most other sectors of our society, and they encompass more diversity than most of our neighborhoods and work sites. To the extent that we have any upward mobility, they provide some of the upward paths. They permit and even encourage the criticism that is directed at themselves. At the same time, they are pillars of social injustice. No wonder they stand in the crosshairs today.

Is Local Engagement Weakening National Engagement?

The team at the Davenport Institute, one of or NCDD member organizations, recently shared what some might see as a provocative interview by NCDD Supporting Member Caroline Lee on the pitfalls of what she calls the public engagement industry. Caroline’s new book worries that wider spread public participation may encourage average citizens to focus solely on local politics while leaving larger scale politics to big organizations and institutions.
Are there negative impacts of public participation work that we need to pay more attention to? If so, what are they? Let us know what you think – read the Davenport piece and the interview linked below, and share your reactions in the comments section.


On The Public Engagement Industry

DavenportInst-logoCaroline Lee, a sociologist at Lafayette College, has a thoughtful and critical view of what she’s dubbed the “Public Engagement Industry.” In her book Do-It-Yourself Democracy: The Rise of the Public Engagement Industry, she considers the successes of the rise of public engagement and poses worthwhile questions about its future. On the one hand, public engagement efforts generate a sense of tangible involvement, lacking from traditional public hearings:

A public hearing where everyone gets three minutes at a microphone is really unsatisfying. This new kind of public engagement involves people talking in small groups, telling their stories, giving reasons for their ideas and maybe even changing their minds.

On the other hand, she argues, “some problems are too big for individuals to fix.”  She argues that if citizens focus too much on the local level, important national issues will take a backseat:

These processes have short-term impacts on people’s attitudes towards politics and their sense that individuals are key to social change, but this new kind of public engagement shifts people’s expectations of the institutions that we all rely on. Participants tend to see the local level as the only reasonable place for action and to leave the larger politics of public life up to those organizational clients and institutional sponsors. We face such challenging systemic problems – climate change, the global financial crisis – that we just can’t afford for the ambitions of the electorate to be limited that way.

This is a very different take on local engagement from that of 19th century observer Alexis deToqueville who saw in the ability to collaborate on small local concerns a training ground for large scale undertakings.  Is local engagement really drawing people away from areas of national interest? Or is, as Tocqueville might have suggested, an era where voter turnout is much lower for local than national elections an era where decreased civic engagement at all levels should be expected?  

You can see Lee’s interview with U.S. News and World Report is here, and her website is here.

You can find the original version of this Davenport Institute post http://incommon.pepperdine.edu/2015/10/on-the-public-engagement-industry

Featured D&D Story: Affording Johnson County

Today we’re pleased to be featuring another example of dialogue and deliberation in action. This mini case study was submitted by NCDD member David Supp-Montgomerie of the University of Iowa’s Program for Public Life via NCDD’s new Dialogue Storytelling Tool. Do you have a dialogue story that our network could learn from? Add your dialogue story today!


ShareYourStory-sidebarimageTitle of Project

Affording Johnson County

Description

Johnson County has the highest portion of residents paying over 50% of their income on housing costs in the entire state of Iowa – and the number for its renters is far higher than the national average. In partnership with several community organizations, this year-long public conversation project began with local discussions in several communities and culminates this April in a County Wide Deliberative Summit.

We have held our first meeting so far and it drew business owners, faith leaders (local churches, the synagogue, and the mosque), elected officials at the state and local level, community organizers, and ordinary folks passionate about the topic. City council members were sitting across from refugees and graduate students – this is what democracy looks like.

Which dialogue and deliberation approaches did you use or borrow heavily from?

  • National Issues Forums
  • Open Space / Unconference
  • World Cafe

What was your role in the project?

Co-Organizer, Primary Facilitator, and Sponsoring Organization

Who were your partners for the project (if any)?

Johnson County Affordable Homes Coalition, PATV Channel 18 (local public access station)

What issues did the project primarily address?

Economic issues

Lessons Learned

Some of the small communities had few traditional aspects of civic infrastructure used to organize an event, but we had success when we recruited several faith leaders to help plan and recruit members to participate.

Where to learn more about the project:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1623032817948781.1073741828.1608100846108645&type=3

Civic Rituals

In Nina Eliasoph’s excellent book Avoiding Politics, she explores, as the subtile indicates, “how Americans produce apathy in every day life.” For this thoughtful, sociological study Eliasoph embedded herself with numerous civic groups – including volunteer, recreational and activist organizations. Through her detailed observations, she notes many factors that impede successful civic and political activity.

This morning I was struck by a passage on civic rituals – practices which are seemingly good for civic life but which ultimately discourage public-minded discussion in the public sphere.

Reflecting on numerous special events organized around various community concerns, Eliasoph observes:

The practice of ritual production was one of the most important messages of the rituals. This sporadic and indirect method of showing concern made “care for fellow humans” seem to be a special occasion, something that could happen just a few times a year, easily incorporated into a busy commuter’s schedule without changing anything else.

Lest this point be misinterpreted coming on the eve of Veterans’ Day, I do think it’s important to mention – and Eliasoph agrees – that civic rituals are not inherently bad.

Voting is, arguably, a civic ritual. It is definitely habitual, with prior voting being a strong predictor of future voting behavior. While one ought to do far more than vote to be civic, I think it’s still important to have this ritual in one’s civic life.

But, I think about rituals like Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The topics of racial justice surfaced around that holiday are deeply important and critical for us to collectively tackle in our communities. But too often, the day becomes little more than a day for pontificating by public officials. An opportunity for us each to dedicate one day to racial equality, feel good about our commitment to diversity, and then continue to go through life discriminating and blindly committing microaggressions.

In this case, the civic ritual is indeed problematic. We give the issue just enough attention to check it off our list without ever really taking the time to tackle the hard work of confronting it.

Arguably, it’s better to have something than nothing – having no days to acknowledge the realities of racial injustice would indeed be a travesty. But if we didn’t have these simple, ineffective rituals to satisfy our morality – would we then be more likely to tackle the issue more fully?

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a taxonomy of civic engagement measures

Civic engagement is important to measure both as an intrinsic good and as a predictor of various desirable outcomes for the individuals who engage and for their communities and governments. Organizations–from individual schools and nonprofits to the Census Bureau and Corporation for National & Community Service–often ask survey questions that measure it. But there are many available survey measures, and organizations often wonder which ones to use and how to cluster them. Here is a simple table that produces six categories, with sample survey items for each.

Citizens engage … with each other with institutions
by communicating
  • attending meetings
  • discussing public affairs
  • posting/reposting social media about public issues
  • reading/watching news
  • contacting officials
  • contacting media
  • protest/civil disobedience
by acting/working
  • working to fix a community problem
  • volunteering
  • doing one’s job with a public purpose*
  • voting
  • boycotting/buycotting
  • working in government (including AmeriCorps)*
  • social entrepreneurship*
by forming relationships
  • membership in groups
  • leadership roles in groups
  • trust in other people
  • service on boards and advisory committees
  • confidence in institutions

A few observations:

  • Deliberative democracy is the first row. Public work is the whole table.
  • With the exception of trust and confidence, these are measures of action, not of attitudes or knowledge. I include trust and confidence basically as proxies for actual working relationships, which would be ideally measured more directly. Attitudes and knowledge are also crucial, but they would require another table.
  • Asterisks denote constructs that are rarely measured and for which the items seem to be relatively weak.
  • I prefer survey measures of basic constructs that are relatively invariant across contexts. For instance, I don’t care whether people post on Facebook (which we may all stop doing in a few years, anyway), but I do care whether they communicate with fellow citizens about public issues. Likewise, I would count someone as doing public work whether it’s paid or not, so I am less interested in whether people spend hours volunteering than in whether they work on public issues. The challenge is that survey measures of abstract categories are hard to understand, but measures of highly concrete activities (like volunteering hours) tend to miss the point a bit. But we do our best with proxies.
  • One way to turn these separate items into larger wholes is psychometric–looking empirically at which clusters of items go together in a population, because clusters would ostensibly measure underlying psychological factors. I think that is valuable work but not the only way to proceed. These are not strictly psychological measures, manifesting the mental states of individuals. They have a lot to do with institutions and varying social needs. Further, we are not looking for individuals who approximate good citizenship as a psychological state. Rather, we are trying to improve democracy. That may require a division of labor in which, for instance, some people specialize in protest and have low confidence in institution, while others have high trust and volunteer a lot. What kinds of civic engagement we need is a social/political question, not a psychological one.

Interdisciplinarity

When I started my Ph.D. program somebody warned me that being an interdisciplinary scholar is not a synonym for being mediocre at many things. Rather, choosing an interdisciplinary path means having to work just has hard as your disciplinary colleagues, but doing this equally well across multiple disciplines.

I suspect that comment doesn’t really do justice to the challenges faced by scholars within more established disciplines, but I can definitely attest to the fact that working across disciplines can be a challenge.

Having worked in academia for many years, I’d been prepared for this on a bureaucratic level. My program is affiliated with multiple departments and multiple colleges at Northeastern. No way is that going to go smoothly. Luckily, due to some amazing colleagues, I’ve hardly had do deal with the bureaucratic issues at all. In fact, I’ve been quite impressed to find that I experience the department as a well-integrated part of the university. No small feat!

But there remain scholarly challenges to being interdisciplinary.

This morning, I was reading through computer science literature on argument detection and sentiment analysis. This relatively young field has already developed an extensive literature, building off the techniques of machine learning to automatically process large bodies of text.

A number of articles included reflections how how people communicate. If someone says, “but…” that probably means they are about to present a counter argument. If someone says, “first of all…” they are probably about to present a detailed argument.

These sorts of observations are at the heart of sentiment analysis. Essentially, the computer assigns meaning to a statement by looking for patterns of key words and verbal indicators.

I was struck by how divorced these rules of speech patterns were from any social science or humanities literature. Computer scientists have been thinking about how to teach a computer to detect arguments and they’ve established their own entire literature attempting to do so. They’ve made a lot of great insights as they built the field, but – at least from the little I read today – there is something lacking from bring so siloed.

Philosophers have, in a manner of speaking, been doing “argument detection” for a lot longer than computer scientists. Surely, there is something we can learn from them.

And this is the real challenge of being interdisciplinary. As I dig into my field(s), I’m struck by the profound quantity of knowledge I am lacking. Each time I pick up a thread it leads deeper and deeper into a literature I am excited to learn – but the literatures I want to study are divergent.

I have so much to learn in the fields of math, physics, computer science, political science, sociology, philosophy, and probably a few other fields I’ve forgotten to name. Each of those topics is a rich field in it’s own right, but I have to find some way of bringing all those fields together. Not just conceptually but practically. I have to find time to learn all the things.

It’s a bit like standing in the middle of a forrest – wanting not just to find the nearest town, but to explore the whole thing.

Typical academia, I suppose, is like a depth first search – you choose your direction and you dig into it as deep as possible.

Being an interdisciplinary scholar, on the other hand, is more of a breadth first search – you have to gain a broad understanding before you can make any informed comments about the whole.

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