Global Market or Community

For most people throughout history the word "market" referred to a village event, often held weekly. It was more like our farmers' markets or flea markets than like the stock market or what is today called simply "the market". Indeed, it resembled these only in that it was a system of voluntary exchange.

Adam Smith got much of his enthusiasm for the market from observing what happened in the village. In the village market people exchange goods, or exchange money for goods. They would not do so if, in their own estimate, they did not gain by the transaction. Those who had more corn than they could eat procured in exchange the shoes that they needed. Those who had more cloth than they could use obtained the food they needed. The more exchanges occurred, the greater the gains of the people as a whole.

Furthermore, all were better off with this system of specialiation and exchange than if each household tried to be self-sufficient. It was better for the farmers to devote themselves to producing food and the shoemakers to making shoes than for both to produce both food and shoes. It was better because each was more productive in this way. The total amount of food and shoes produced was greater when farmers and shoemakers specialized.

Smith also saw that an outsider setting prices would distort the market. If the price for boots made it more profitable for shoemakers to sell them than shoes, they would make more of them, whereas what people needed might be shoes. The shoemaker might be reluctant to make them because at the price established he could not make a profit. When the market was free of such controls, sellers and buyers would bargain for a price at which it was beneficial to the purchaser to buy and profitable for the seller to sell. If no such agreed on price can be reached, there would be no sale. The shoemaker would not continue to make a product for which there is no demand at the price he needed. Production is thus informed by market demand.

This both encouraged entrepreneurship and kept overall prices low. If just one shoemaker produced a new type of shoe that was in great demand, he could sell his product at a large profit. But others, seeing what was happening would quickly move into competition, bringing the price down to the lowest point at which that product could be profitably made.

Notice that in all of this all actors behave in their own private interest. There is no appeal to moral principles or to unselfishness. Yet the net result is that everyone benefits. Self-interested behavior, instead of harming others, benefits them. The village community is strengthened by this market. The argument that follows is that the traditional Christian critique of greed is misguided if greed is understood as seeking one's own economic benefit in all one's transactions. This rational self-interest should, instead, be affirmed.

Smith was writing during the industrial revolution. He generalized the principles he saw at work in the village market to the national scale. Industrialization made possible the development of the advantages of the market on a larger scale. Specialization among villagers increased the production of the village by increasing the productivity of workers. Further specialization in the making of shoes further increased productivity. In a factory, instead of one person making a shoe from start to finish, several individuals, each doing one very specific task, could together produce far more shoes than they could working separately.

A crucial requirement of a well-functioning village market was that there be several competing producers of each type of goods. If there were only one shoemaker, he could raise prices unreasonably. This applied to factories as well. If there were only one shoe factory within a market, the price of shoes would be excessive.

The greater production of factories combined with the need for competition meant that a village market was not adequate. Indeed, the effective market for many goods had to be much larger. Rather rapidly, the market became national.

Clearly there were gains. As economists point out, when the amount of labor required to produce an item is reduced, the price goes down, and more people are able to buy it. The per capita consumption of the nation rises. The market works its magic. Overall, the nation is more prosperous.

Unfortuntely, there was a dark side to the industrial revolution. First, work lost most of its interest and dignity. A shoemaker who purchased leather and transformed it into finished products was an artisan who could take pride in his skill and in the quality of the shoes he made. An assembly-line worker tied to a few simple repetitive acts could not. Production ceased to be a calling and became sheer labor. Skilled artisans lost their social status and their means of self-support. Work became drudgery.

Second, having reduced the skill required of workers, the competition among factories was to produce as cheaply as possible. This meant paying the lowest wages possible and obtaining as much work as possible for those wages. Hours were long and working conditions terrible.

Also labor was transformed into a commodity. When labor becomes a commodity, then the market no longer automatically serves the community and its workers. It serves them, now, only when they can bargain on an equal basis with their employers, and this is a rare situation when the market is untrammelled. This occurs only when labor is scarce. In all other situations, the untrammelled market exploits the weakness of workers.

Economists calculated that wages would vacillate around what they called subistence. This they understood to be what a man must earn in order to support his wife and raise two children. If wages rose higher than this, more children would survive, the work force would grow more numerous, and wages would decline. If a worker could not raise even two children, labor would become scarce and wages would rise.

In fact, wages were probably often below subsistence measured in this way. The earnings of the man were often supplemented by the work of the woman and even of quite young children. Indeed, child labor was common.

One may argue that children had always worked. But for children to work with their parents on a farm or to be apprenticed for a trade was one thing. To be forced to do repetitive labor in a factory for sixty hours a week was something quite different.

Third, environmentally and aesthetically, the landscape degenerated. The cities were filled with soot. The factories themselves and the housing of those who worked in them, in contrast to the rural and village landscapes of the past, were ugly. The effects on health were negative.

Fourth, existing communities were destroyed. People were forced to leave their homes on farms and in villages in search of employment in cities. Of course, new communities among industrial workers came into existence, but they were less comprehensive and less stable than before. Also these communities had little control over their own lives. They depended on decisions by industrial employers.

Economists can argue that the workers in the new factories were no worse off than they had been as peasants on English farms. In terms of how much they consumed this may be true. But viewed in terms of human relationships and the quality of life, there are many indications that peasants in the Middle Ages and the early modern period had more dignity and enjoyment than the industrial workers of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.

Loss of community did not factor into the considerations of economists. For their purposes they viewed people as Homo economicus, and Homo economicus is an individual interested only in possession and consumption of goods. Human relationships are no part of the concern of people seen as economic actors.

Rehearsing these well known facts is important as we appraise the claim that the market consists entirely of voluntary operations. This claim made sense in the village market. It also makes considerable sense in the national market. But it does not apply to the transition from one market to the other. Shoemakers did not choose to be put out of business by shoe factories. Once they are forced to close shop, it is true, they are free to seek other employment. They can sell their labor to the highest bidder. But their skills no longer count for anything in this competition. The new labor market is skewed to the benefit of the employer.

In this transition the argument that the rational or self-seeking behavior of all benefits all is less convincing. It remains true that this behavior leads to increased total production and consumption. It may be true that measured only by levels of consumption few are worse off. But measured in other, more human ways, especially when we recognize the importance of the quality of community to each human being, many are far worse off after the change. The community as a whole deteriorates.

However, over time, the promise of more for all was realized in most industrial nations. By the early twentieth century the condition of workers had improved. The economic system still emphasized the mobility of capital and labor, and this continued to work against community. But most workers were paid more than subsistence wages as defined by economists. Some of them were moving into the middle class. After World War II, their condition improved dramatically in Europe and North America, especially during the first quarter century.

How did this come about? Some economists argue that it was simply the result of the success of the market. As goods become ever more bountiful and cheap, workers can buy more of them. Wages rise as the productivity of workers increases.

There is no doubt truth to these claims when demand for labor approaches supply. Employers then must bid for workers competitively. This has certainly been a factor in some fields everywhere and in some countries at some times across the board.

Nevertheless, a more realistic analysis shows that rising wages were more the result of labor organization and governmental action than of the unregulated market. Strikes and collective bargaining played a large role in the United States. Governments passed legislation against child labor and required sanitary and safe working conditions. They established minimum wages that benefited the unorganized. They also developed unemployment compensation and retirement programs. It seemed that after all the suffering and conflict the promised benefits of the industrial revolution had been realized.

II

The goal of concerned people in the years after World War II was to extend the benefits of industrialization to the larger part of the world that did not yet enjoy them. There were two possible paths in that direction.

The first path was industrialization in each "underdeveloped" country separately, basically from within each national economy, as had occurred earlier in England and other North Atlantic nations. It was hoped that with advice, gifts, loans, and technical aid from the developed nations, this process could take place more rapidly and with less suffering than earlier in the North Atlantic countries.

This process did not exclude corporate investments from other countries, but in this model they were carefully restricted so that the developing countries maintained control over their own economies. Governments typically involved themselves closely in the development process, and owned many facilities. Infant industries were protected from foreign competition by subsidies, tariffs, and other barriers to trade. Exports were encouraged in order to earn capital with which to continue internal industrialization, but import-substitution industries were also supported.

This path was followed by most of the underdeveloped countries in the first three decades after World War II. Results varied greatly. Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and Singapore were extremely successful. Many other countries made modest, but significant, gains. Still others failed miserably, often because of social chaos, corruption, or concentration on military power. Sheer inefficiency of too much government bureaucracy played its role as well.

Around 1980 this first path was rejected in favor of the second one. This is the path of moving from a multinational economy to a global one. There were two main reasons for this shift.

One reason was that the ideology favoring a global economy was gaining ground. This was partly because of its power as an ideology and partly because of the increasing control of the political order by those who would profit from this shift, the transnational corporations. This ideology asserted the same principles that had supported the move from local to national economies in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

That is, the larger the market, the greater the possibilities of specialization, and the greater the size of the market, the greater the total production that will result. If this worked in the move from local to national markets, according to proponents, it would work further in the move from national markets to a global one. Everything would be produced where that production is most efficient, so that whole regions of the world can specialize in particlar products.

This ideology did not gain dominancee out of nothing around 1980. The successive rounds of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade had been pushing for the reduction of barriers to trade from soon after World War II. Nevertheless, prior to 1980 this was not thought of as the major engine of development. It was during the Reagan administration that the thesis was clearly articulated that investments by transnational corporations should be the primary source of capital funds for development, and that the role of the international development agencies should be to pave the way for this. Since then, under both Republican and Democratic administrations, reducing the role of national boundaries in economic matters has been the primary foreign policy agenda of the United States.

The second reason was the apparent breakdown of development along the first path. The dramatic evidence was the debt crisis. In the process of developing, many countries had borrowed heavily. Indeed, they had been strongly advised to do so by the World Bank and other development agencies. Some of this money was badly spent or simply pocketed by the ruling elite, so that repayment was difficult.

This was greatly exacerbated in two ways by the oil crisis brought about by OPEC. First, the abruptly increased price of oil raised the cost of necessary imports dramatically, and funds were needed to pay for this. Second, the vast profits of OPEC were depostited in First World banks and became available for loans. There was insufficient demand for funds in the First World; so the banks pushed loans on the governments of developing countries.

At first, interest rates were low, and it was easy to borrow more money to pay off earlier debts. But when interest rates rose sharply at the end of the seventies, developing countries found it difficult to make payments. New loans were hard to obtain. Mexico and Brazil, two of the largest debtors, threatened to default on their loans.

The International Monetary Fund and the World Bank came to the rescue. What they rescued was not so much the indebted countries as the banks that had loaned them money and the international system of trade. They did this by lending new money, renegotiating old loans, and persuading creditors to extend new lines of credit. But as a condition for all this they required structural adjustment.

Structural adjustment was geared to the ideology of the global market. Each country was to cease protecting its infant businesses and concentrate on exporting what was most desired in the global market. It was to remove tariff barriers, lower wages, and in general reduce the role of government in the society. In these and other ways it was to make itself attractive to investments by transnational corporations. It was now these investments rather than internal economic developments that were to bring about economic growth.

Meanwhile leading industrial powers, at least the English-speaking ones, adopted similar policies for themselves. In the United States, expenditures on the poor along with pro-labor policies in general have been under attack. The social safety net has been replaced by a program designed to force all to work. For the United States to be globally competitive, it is argued, it must reduce the costs of production within its borders. It must enable its corporations to move their investments freely wherever they wish without governmental intervention. It must reduce or abolish its tariffs so that goods produced elsewhere can enter the country freely.

Globally the United States pushed the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. This led to the establishment of the World Trade Organization. This has power to overrule national laws deemed to be in restraint of trade.

Currently the next step being proposed is the Multilateral Agreement on Investments. This removes the final barriers to transnational corporations taking over most of the business in developing countries. It officially places these corporations outside the political and legal systems of the countries in which they do business. Disputes between them and governments will be settled, not in the courts of the nations in which they are operating, but in special courts designed to encourage the free movement of capital and goods.

III

Looking back, the worldwide changes effected in the past twenty years are astounding. The shift from local to national economies took a century. The shift from national to global economy has occurred in two decades.

Now let us consider the accomplishments of the global economy. Has it succeeded in terms of its own goals? The answer must be that in some respects and in some places it has. In Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia, it has created a large industrial economy. In China growth rates have been phenomenal. Cities like Sao Paolo in Brazil have become dynamic centers of a modern economy. On the other hand, there are many countries, especially in Africa, whose condition, even as measured by narrowly economic standards, is declining.

Whatever the successes, there is a dark side. This is remarkably similar to the dark side of the earlier nationalization of the British economy. Already nationalist development had begun the process of displacing skilled artisans, and the global economy undercut the employment offered by national industries. Displacement has thus been rapid and extensive. As with the earlier industrial revolution work has lost its interest and its dignity for most laborers. Everywhere the environment is exploited beyond sustainable limits.

Both forms of development were destructive of traditional community. Development of national economies typically involved shifts from subsistence farming to "more efficient" methods that released labor from the rural sector to the urban one. As in the earlier industrial revolution in Europe, the quality of community in the rapidly growing cities was impoverished in comparison with the traditional societies that were disrupted. Nevertheless national community remained intact.

The movement to the global market has been even more destructive of local community. All the negative elements of the national development programs continued, but now they were no longer moderated by the continuing sense of national community that was earlier expressed by governments. Decisions are made in distant centers with little regard to human consequences.

The most dramatic dark side is with regard to labor. Corporations naturally seek to produce as cheaply as possible. Now, instead of finding the cheapest place to produce in England or the United States, they have the whole world to explore. Now as before, cheap production means low wages, long hours, and wretched working conditions. Now as before, it involves child labor on a mass scale.

A single example of this latter illustrates the almost inevitable effects of the globalization of the market. Let me read a few sentences from David Korten's book, When Corporations Rule the World. "The carpet industry in India exports $300 million worth of carpets a year, mainly to the United States and Germany. The carpets are produced by more than 300,000 child laborers working fourteen to sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. Many are bonded laborers, paying off the debts of their parents; they have been sold into bondage or kidnapped from low-caste parents. The fortunate ones earn a pittance a day. The unfortunate ones are paid nothing at all. The carpet manufacturers argue that industry must have child laborers to be able to survive in competition with the carpet industries of Pakistan, Nepal, Morocco, and elsewhere that also use child laborers." (p. 232)

You may wonder why children will work under such circumstances. Part of the answer is implied in the testimony of former Indian Chief Justice P.M. Bhagwati that he has personally seen boys "beaten up, branded [with red-hot iron rods] and even hung from trees upside down." (Ibid.)

The employment of children is by no means limited to carpet making. It is estimated that 55 million Indian children are forced to work in the garment industry under similar conditions.

The most popular location for new production in the past few years has been China. The attraction there is an enormous pool of unemployed laborers who will work for almost anything. The going wages are around eighteen cents an hour. Hours are long and working conditions miserable.

This working out of the principles of the global market is known as "the race to the bottom". Nothing like it occurred in the traditional village market. That market was in goods, not labor. There was work for everyone there, and the exchange that took place in the market was truly for the benefit of all. The enlargement of the market to the national scale changed that. It created a vast pool of unemployed workers. Industrialists could take their pick. Workers had few choices.

We noted, however, that in the North Atlantic nations, after some generations the condition of workers improved dramatically. In the decades afer World War II they gained the hoped-for benefits of the industrial age. Perhaps what is now required is patience. After this period of extreme exploitation and dehumanization, perhaps workers in developing countries will come to share in the benefits of the global market.

If one believes that the market left to itself was responsible for the improved conditions of workers in the older industrialized nations, then this optimism may be justified. I have argued, however, that in the free market workers benefit only when labor is scarce. Unfortunately, it is difficult to anticipate a time when labor will become globally scarce. The level of global production now exceeds the capacity of the planet to provide resources and absorb wastes. The increased production required to employ the present pool of available labor would surely precipitate ecological collapse. Meanwhile population continues to grow and technological developments are reducing the need for human labor. The global market alone will not solve this problem.

We must, therefore, consider the other possibilities. Can workers organize and demand more pay, shorter hours, and better working conditions as they did in the North Atlantic countries? Here, too, the prospects are dim. When workers organize in one country, employers move their production to another. Usually the threat of doing this is enough to stop organizing efforts. Certainly it curtails government support for them. The threat of moving, often acted on, has greatly weakened the labor movement in the United States. Iit continues to flourish chiefly in those fields that are unmovable such as teaching, transport, and government.

To negotiate with highly mobile global capital, labor would have to be effectively organized on a global basis. That is not, I suppose, utterly impossible. But the obstacles to developing global labor unions able to meet on equal terms with transnational corporations are daunting.

The remaining possibility is global government. If the economy is globally organized, and if, for the sake of human beings, we need government to regulate capital, then we must have global government. In one sense, recent trends have moved in that direction. But the closest approximation to global government that now exists is the World Trade Organization. This has immense powers to overrule national laws. Those powers may be extended. The WTO could, in principle, establish minimum standards that must be met as a condition of participating in trade. In this way some environomental safeguards might be introduced and child labor curtailed.

Unfortunately, these changes are of greater interest to the general populace than to the transnational corporations to whose power and freedom the World Trade Organization is dedicated. It is structured so as to minimize the influence of popular opinion. Hence, it is not a promising tool for democratic world government. The United Nations is a more promising institution in terms of its nature and purposes, but the United Nations, and especially the General Assembly, has been systematically weakened by the United States with regard to economic matters.

As a citizen of the United States, I find myself in any case somewhat skeptical of the ability of a world government to effectivly deal with the needs of workers. Our experience has been that corporations and their supporters are far more effective in electing and influencing legislators than are labor unions or the general public. As wealth is increasingly concentrated in their hands, the difficulty of reversing this trend grows greater. Meanwhile the breakdown of community has led to such alienation that a minority of those eligible to voters do not do so. It is my judgment that a world government would seem even more remote to most people and be even more subject to undue influence from corporations organized on a global basis, controlling most of the media, and possessing vast resources.

IV

Is there an alternative? The title poses this question. Would it be desirable to build an economy that supported local communities as did the village markets of yesteryear? If it would be desirable, would it be possible?

An abrupt shift to local markets would, of course, lead to chaos. That is neither desirable nor possible. The question is whether it is wise to take what steps we now can to move toward decentralization of the economy. To this, my answer is an unqualified Yes.

One reason for my answer is that I do not believe the global economy is sustainable. Such predictions are always dangerous, and I do not pretend to know what is most likely to destroy it. I also do not know whether it is more likely to erode gradually or collapse abruptly. But perhaps a few speculations are in order.

One source of collapse could be the protest of the poor. Such protests have been numerous. Thus far the authorities have dealt with them successfully with what they call "low-intensity conflict". Perhaps this will always succeed, but that cannot be taken for granted. The justification of this war against the poor used to be that they were Communists. This has lost much of its persuasiveness. Perhaps the American people will lose their stomach for this brutality. Meanwhile, as fewer and fewer of the world's poor continue to invest their hopes in the global economy, more and more may be driven to oppose it with violence. The waning of Communist ideology does not mean that no new ideology will give voice to the misery of today's global workforce.

A second source could be ecological deterioration or the exhaustion of resources. Global climate changes could occur more abruptly than generally anticipated. To take an extreme scenario, Europe might be threatened with the loss of the warming from the Gulf Stream. Grains may become globally insufficient to meet demands. Hungry people in countries that are exporting foods to us may refuse to continue that process.

A third source could be the breakdown of the global trade system. At present this depends on the willingness of the poor in developing countries to sacrifice so that their governments can pay on their international debts. In time they may refuse to continue to support this system. Poor countries may declare bankruptcly. If debts are not paid, trade will be disrupted. The flow of resources from the South to the North may end.

A fourth source could be disease. There are parts of Africa now into which few outsiders will venture because of danger to health. With climate change, the disappearance of forests, and general ecological disruptions, new diseases threaten to be a major factor. Fear of contact between regions could drastically disrupt the system.

A fifth scenario would be simply a worsening of what has already happened in Asia and Russia. Hot money moves in and out of countries, wrecking their economies. At whatever price in trade and attractiveness to investments, more countries may begin to build walls around their economies to prevent this wrechage. In spite of pressures from the IMF and the WTO, this self-defense could evolve into a renewal of national economies.

Finally, it is doubtful that any stable society can exist without strong local bases. There must be families in which parents care for children. There must be larger communities that support parents in doing so. As the global market more and more weakens the family internally and externally, the alternatives will eventually become either anarchy or totalitarian rule.

I list such scenarios only as illustrations of what I see as the fundamental fragility of the present global system. If I am correct about any of these possibilities, the total dependence on that system is quite dangerous for any local community. Any steps that can be taken in any country to reduce that dependence, to achieve the ability to survive when the system breaks down, is desirable.

Realistically, this means resisting efforts to further weaken national and regional economies. We should cease to transfer power from governmental to economic institutions. For example, we should oppose the Multilateral Agreement on Investments, whose only justification is the further globaliztion of the economy at the expense of local business and national governments.

Affirming the goal of local self-sufficiency can also mean that we take steps to turn the process around, to recover governmental control over markets. This would mean reversing the process of lowering tariffs and of removing barriers to trade. The place to begin may be with respect to goods that are made by forced labor. Some nations already have laws against this. This restriction on imports could be extended to all products of child labor.

It would be possible to go from there to place higher tariffs on goods made in countries whose minimum wage legel is extremely low. Such measures would moderate the race to the bottom. If the World Trade Organization penalized countries that imposed such a tariff, its nature would be exposed, and public opinion, acting through governments, might yet reduce its power or change its policies.

Using tariffs to affect the conditions of labor in developing countries would be only a very small step toward recovering governmental control over markets. Another urgent need is to reverse the policies of international economic organizations expressed through structural adjustment that oppose economic self-reliance in developing countries. The horrible results of structural adjustment are now so apparent that in the World Bank there is some willingness to review these policies. An awakened conscience in First World countries can help. That countries should be able to feed themselves is a principle that might get some acceptance. At a point when the global economy fails, for whatever reason, it will make a great deal of difference whether countries produce the food they need.

Today Cuba illustrates the extreme difficulties suffered by a nation that geared its economy to exports and was then ejected from the trading system. It also shows that adjustment is possible, and that, even today, a nation can survive on its own, however miserably, despite the isolation, indeed persecution, inflicted upon it by its powerful neighbor.

A more gradual transition in other countries from producing for export to feeding themselves need not entail this suffering. But Cuba is a warning of the acute problems in store for countries that wait for a collapse of their international trade before developing the ability to meet their essential needs. Not all of them have the national solidarity and leadership to survive such an ordeal.

V

I have been offering a narrowly practical reason for strengthening national markets, and I have been identifying some steps we might take to move in that direction. But we need also to ask another kind of question. What kind of world would be best for our descendants? In that world how would markets and governments be related?

My answer to the latter question, one that I believe many would accept, is that markets should operate within communities that have political boundaries. This is because markets should serve people, not exploit them. The argument that markets should be given a free hand is derived from the local markets of Adam Smith's day. We have seen that when markets extend beyond governmental boundaries they weaken the communities within those boundaries and harm the people of those communities.

The implication is that if we have a global economy we must have a global government. Since in some respects we will, inevitably, have economic issues that can only be dealt with at a global level, we do indeed need some global government. But a second principle seems equally important to me. Political power should be as close to the people as possible. Concentrating power at the global level would be an extreme concession to necessity, required by the global market, not an ideal.

There is, or can be, such a thing as global community, but it is inevitably very thin. The communities through which we identify ourselves, within which we can take effective responsbility for one another, and in which we can participate significantly, are much smaller ones. Only if power exists in these smaller communities can we have any sense of shaping our own destinies.

If the market should be under governmental supervision, and if governments should be as close to the people as possible, then the more the economy is decentralized the better. For this reason I do idealize the village economies of a bygone era. I believe that people, poor as they were by our standards, had more control over their own lives in those days than is possible today for most workers, especially in the developing countries.

There is obviously no way back to the village economies of the past. Population growth alone precludes that, even if we who are accustomed to affluence were willing, as few of us are, to give up the benefits of industrialization. But a move toward industrial decentralization could be a more forward rather than backward.

The question is how many of the benefits of industrialization can be retained in a highly decentralized economy. What portion of the goods we demand for what we now consider an acceptable lifestyle could be produced locally?

I am not an authority on such matters. But there are indications that if we set our sights on decentralizing the economy and developed appropriate technology, a remarkably high percentage of our ordinary requirements could be produced in a community of modest size. If it is objected that production in and for small communities would be less efficient than large-scale centralized production, it could be answered, first, that when the true costs of transportation are calculated, this may not be true, and second, that efficiency in that sense is less important than a good life in a self-reliant community that has some control over its own destiny.

The goal is not, of course, totally self-contained local economies. Just as the local market is beneficial to local people, so also exchanges between communities are beneficial to all that participate. The norm should be that this trade should be free, not in the usual sense of "free" trade, which means that corporations are free from responsibility to communities, but in the sense that each community is free to engage in trade or not. That means that communities trade with one another for what they do not have to have, but what they desire, for luxuries, not for necessities.

There is, of course, no need to reduce the economic units aiming at basic self-sufficiency to tiny ones. For many purposes nations can serve as communities. For nations to become more economically self-reliant would be a major step in the right direction. But in order to give ordinary people greater participation in the decisions that govern their lives, my ideal would be self-sufficiency in essentials in much smaller communities.

A world organized on the basis of relatively small communities capable of autonomous survival would be far less fragile than the present one. It would also empower people to influence the decisions most important to them. But local governments cannot be trusted with all decisions.

The tragedy of the commons, identified by Garrett Harden, applies. This is just the opposite of the magic of the market so celebrated by economists and indicates that what the church has condemned as greed is truly a problem. For example, if each economic unit acts for its own advantage, and if there are no established rules to restrict them, each will continue to contribute to global warming. Only as the others cut back on greenhouse emissions is it advantageous for each one to do so. Decentralization cannot replace some elements of global governance.

Furthermore, it is obvious that although small regions may be able to supply their own necessities, there are many products that cannot be sensibly produced in each of them. Airplanes are not necessary to survival, perhaps not even to the good life, but I am not proposing that their production be ended. On the other hand, it would be foolish for every sub-region within a nation, or even for every nation, to undertake their production. Larger units are needed even if smaller ones could produce their own planes, because competition is required for the market to work, and that means that in each market there should be several producers of each type of plane. Perhaps continents would serve as the economic units for these purposes.

Europe has led the world in providing a model of much that seems desirable to me. Nations continue to function as political and economic units for some purposes, but the European Community is doing so for others. In some parts of Europe, also, regions within nations continue to have a certain amount of autonomy. This distribution of power over several levels seems to me preferable to its concentration at any one level.

My concern, which is not based on detailed knowledge, is that the pressures of the global market are now moving toward centralization of economic power in the European Community rather than its decentralization to local communities. Instead of challenging the globalization of the market, Europe seems to be seeking to re-shape itself so as to be competitive within it. Destructive trends that are already far advanced in the English-language world threaten to take hold on the European continent as well. It is my hope that they can be stopped and then reversed before Europe, too, is sucked into "the race to the bottom". It is my hope that Europeans will reclaim the value of community and refuse to be atomized by the global market.

 

 

Economics for the Common Good

My paper will be in large part a critique of the assumptions underlying the now dominant economic theory and a proposal of different assumptions. To many people this seems a remote and indirect way of approaching the issues of the common good. I hope that, as I proceed, that sense of remoteness will lessen. But at the outset I want to explain why this seems so important to me.

It is obvious that there are many problems in the world today. In my opinion the condition of many of the peoples of the South has deteriorated in the past fifty years. Without question the global environment has deteriorated. There are multiple reasons for this, including the explosive growth of population. But I believe that the most important reason is to be found in the economic policies that have increasingly shaped global events.

Those who recognize the suffering that results from such policies as structural adjustment, often complain loudly. These complaints, if effective at all, lead to minor changes. But while these changes may bring modest improvements, new policies are being implemented by the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the World Trade Organization that continue to worsen the situation. They are all guided by a common vision and understanding. As long as this vision and understanding remain unchallenged, improving the ways in which they are implemented has only minor effects.

This vision and understanding are shaped by the dominant economic theory. That theory in turn follows from a few fundamental assumptions. Until these assumptions are made explicit and critically evaluated, this vision and understanding will continue to dominate the course of events.

I

The first assumption to be considered lies outside economic theory. It is the assumption that the economic order is the most important one, that progress is to be viewed primarily as economic progress. It is this assumption that renders economic theory so important. If the economy were viewed as one among several important components of society, perhaps as subordinate to sociological and political considerations, then it would be these sociological and political considerations to which we should be giving primary attention. But today this is not the case. Sociological and political considerations are subordinated to economic ones. Governmental policies are determined largely by their contribution to economic progress, and economic progress is understood in terms of economic growth.

There is a further assumption, one that is being questioned more and more. This is that the standard measur of economic growth are good ones. At present by far the most common measure is the per capita Gross Domestic Product (GDP). Since the success of policies is so largely judged by their effects on this statistic, examining it is eminently appropriate.

Questioning the value of this measure is not new. In the 1960's, there was considerable criticism of its role in shaping public policy. Two leading American economists, William Nordhaus and James Tobin, undertook to take account of the criticisms and come up with a better measure of genuine economic progress. They called this the Measure of Economic Welfare (MEW). They made major additions to the GDP for leisure and for household work while subtracting most governmental expenses and other defensive ones. They also emphasized in their calculations the importance of investing sufficiently to provide for future production. They then calculated the MEW for the United States from 1929-1965.

The results showed that MEW grew more slowly than the GDP. Nevertheless, over the period studied it did grow, about two-thirds as rapidly. They concluded that this fact warranted the continued use of the GDP rather than of their more complex measure. Presumably they decided that, over time, growth of the GDP does contribute to human welfare, so that continued concentration of effort on securing that growth is appropriate policy.

Their interpretation of their own results is surprising when one examines them more carefully. If one breaks the 1929-1965 period into parts and considers the period after World War II, the connection between GDP growth and the MEW turns out to rather slight. The MEW grows only one-sixth as rapidly as the GDP between 1947 and 1965. It would seem more rational to draw the conclusion that in the circumstances of the time, increasing GDP was a rather ineffective way of improving economic welfare. One should experiment with more direct approaches.

That there was no hint of such a thought in Nordhaus and Tobin's report indicates that their real goal was more to defend continued use of the GDP than genuinely to consider the advantages of employing a different measure. If this had not been their purpose, one would expect at least that they would advocate continuing study to see whether MEW growth continued at all when policies were directed to increasing the market activities that are measured by GDP. But in fact they dropped the project and did not even suggest that others might continue it.

In the mid-eighties I became so frustrated by the hardly questioned hegemony of GDP accounts in evaluating policy that I gathered a group in Claremont to pursue the issue. Later my son, Cliff took over much of the work on the project. We first thought that we might simply bring the MEW up to date. But as we examined it, we gave up this idea. We found that some of the statistics they used were not available in subsequent years and that they had omitted enviornmental issues from consideration. On the other hand, we saw that their treatment of leisure was such as to overwhelm their index. Also, Nordhaus and Tobin did not consider the question of distribution of income, whereas we judged that this issue is important for any responsible measure of human well-being.

We developed an Index of Sustainable Economic Welfare (ISEW) for the United States that omitted leisure but included environmental costs. We dealt with the years 1950-86, and we published our results in an appendix to For the Common Good. We found that in the fifties GDP and ISEW rose together; that in the sixties and seventies, GDP rose rapidly while ISEW rose slowly; and that in the eighties, GDP continued to rise rapidly while ISEW declined. Subsequently, ISEWs have been prepared for several other countries, including Germany, with remarkably similar results. I should also note that when leisure is included, as in principle it should be, the gap between GDP and ISEW is considerably increased.

The ISEW is a very crude instrument for the measurement of economic welfare. Nevertheless, it is much better than the GDP. The sharp and increasing divergence between the two is strong evidence that continued orientation of policy to increasing the GDP is damaging to economic welfare. Subordinating policies directly aimed at improving the economic conditions of people to those aimed only at increasing market activity is not justified even by the strictest economic considerations. Yet this practice continues to prevail through most of the world.

Note, further, that the ISEW measures only economic wellbeing. No Christian, and indeed noone genuinely concerned for human beings, should equate economic wellbeing with wellbeing in general. There is very little correlation between economic wellbeing and personal happiness. Most of what is most important to real human beings, such as the quality of their relations to others, is missed as much by the ISEW as by the GDP. Accordingly, the ISEW is not put forward with the recommendation that henceforth political policies be guided by it, although that would be an improvement over present policies. It is put forward primarily to show the absurdity of guiding political policies by standard governmental measures of the economy.

II

Far more important to most people than what can be measure in an economic index is human community. To be an accepted and appreciated member of a healthy community is a primary requirement of human maturation and personal satisfaction. But on the whole, the changes that have been taking place in the past fifty years have been adverse to community. This may be less true in Europe and Japan than in the United States, but it is even more true in the Third World. And there, as in the United States, it is a direct result of economic policies.

In the United States, the past fifty years have seen the replacement of family farms by agribusiness. Small rural towns have been decimated, while the population of urban slums and sprawling suburbs has greatly increased. Of course, new communities come into being in slums and suburbs, but their quality is inferior to what existed in rural America in earlier periods.

One factor that works against the emergence of healthy community in suburbs is rapid mobility. In many suburbs the average length of residence is three or four years. The move away may either be to a more affluent suburb in the same urban area or to another city. Both moves are dictated by economics.

There can be little doubt that the rise in psychological depression, drug abuse, suicide, crime, educational achievement, and divorce are related to the decline in the quality of community. The decline in political participation, neighborhood churches, public schools, and civic organizations is part of the same picture. Interests narrow and concern for others declines.

The decay of community in Third World countries is more dramatic. At the end of World War II most people still lived in rural villages or within functioning tribal systems. They were very poor, but most of them had some ability to produce their own food and were accepted and appreciated participants in communities. Since then, as in the United States, agribusiness has replaced subsistence farming and there have been vast movements of population to cities often unable to provide people with the minimum facilities of urban life. Here, too, new communities form, but they are far less healthy than those that were destroyed.

This destruction of community has not been accidental. In the years after World War II, as development workers moved into the Third World, they complained about the impediments to growth deeply entrenched in traditional societies. Traditional values worked against those needed to build a "modern" society. Certainly the prizing of human relations in community was an important part of the obstacle. Simply pointing out to people that they could earn more money by leaving their places of birth did not suffice to move them. They were concerned for economic survival, of course, but beyond that participation in family structures seemed more important to them than "improving" their condition.

Colonial powers had long struggled against these traditional values. They had difficulty inducing "natives" to work for pay as long as they could survive without doing so. Hence they had to create artificial needs for cash -- by taxes, for example -- or they undercut their means of subsistence by taking their land away from them or destroying their irrigation systems. In recent decades similar policies have been followed as peasants have been forced off their land for the sake of modernization and "progress".

We might regard all this simply as tyranny. But it should be understood instead -- or at least also -- as a consistent expression of the dominant economic theory which, as noted above, is the theory governing the dominant sector of society. That theory has no place for the values of community. It is interesting that Lester Thurow, a leading American economist, closely related to the more progressive wing of the Democratic party, has written that the agricultural sector is the one great area of progress in American society since World War II. That is because this is where there has been the greatest increase in productivity, that is, product divided by hours of labor. This has been achieved, of course, by shifting from family farms to agribusiness. Thurow is blind to any human costs involved because he is socialized to think in economic terms.

The point, then, is that a basic assumption of economic theory is that human beings are, at least for economic purposes, rightly to be understood individualistically. Sometimes the units to be understood individualistically are households rather than as individual human beings, but this makes little difference. In the dominant economic model, the wellbeing of the individual is not affected by the wellbeing of others. Hence the destruction of rural communities does not count against the gain in per capita income achieved by reducing the number of persons living on the land while producing the same quantity of agricultural products.

The model of the individual is sharpened by an exclusive focus on production and consumption. The individual is understood to aim at consuming as much as possible while working as little as possible. In other words, workers sell their labor as dearly as possible and purchase goods a cheaply as possible. It was the failure of members of traditional societies to conform to these norms that led to the call for modernization.

Again, I call attention to the absence of any role for human relationships other than those of exchange in the market place. The sympathy that Adam Smith saw as the foundation of morality is excluded from economic considerations. Economists acknowledge that some people choose to give their money to others, but this must be understood simply as one desire alongside others that money allows one to fulfil. There is no accounting for human tastes, and economic theory counts against any judgment among them. The goal is that as many desires as possible be fulfilled, whatever those desires are.

Given this understanding of human beings, the policies that have destroyed so many communities both in the United States and in the Third World, are entirely rational and moral. They lead to increased productivity and thereby, assuming full employment, to increased per capita consumption. The fact that this assumption is rarely realistic is given too little thematic attention. Opposition to these policies is seen as sentimental and ignorant.

If in fact people are not the separate individuals depicted in economic theory, then the theory developed on this basis is distorted. It is not surprising that the policies based on this theory lead to so much human suffering. It is important to articulate an alternative.

I propose a common alternative, that we view people as persons in community. We do not want to minimize their importance as individuals, but true individuality emerges only in community. The wellbeing of individuals is more affected by the health of the communities in which they participate than by the quantity of goods and services they consume. Hence the economy should be so ordered as to strengthen communities and make them more healthy rather than to destroy them.

Policies designed to strengthen communities in general lead to some increase in per capita production and consumption. The issue is not whether this should increase. The issue is whether policies should be geared primarily to this increase, with the result of destroying community, or primarily to benefitting people in communities in part by increasing their ability to meet their need for goods and services. Ghandi strongly favored the latter approach, symbolized the sewing machine, whereas Nehru, a more modern thinker, built steel factories. Many NGOs and church groups have worked at community development projects, but governments and global agencies have engaged in top-down development, such as huge dams, destructive of community. The difference is practical and sharp.

The difference manifests itself also in the proper relation of socio-political and economic power. If people are understood as individuals benefited only by increased consumption of goods and services, then socio-political structures should adopt those policies that increase the availability of these goods and services. This is their most important function. Since the larger the market the more efficiently goods are produced, the socio-political structures should remove all barriers to the movement of capital and goods across socio-political boundaries. They should reduce their regulation of business to a minimum, and provide the most favorable and attractive context for investment. In short, they should adopt the role of servants of the global market.

On the other hand, if we view people as persons-in-community, the socio-political structures will aim to constitute themselves as the kind of society that strengthens and enriches community. They will favor local businesses and protect them from unreasonable competition from without. They will establish wages at a level that provides for all who are unemployed and make sure that working conditions are safe and healthful. They will make sure that the use of local resources is sustainable and nonpolluting. They will gear education to the enjoyment and well being of their people rather than to competing economically against other economic units. In short, they will develop a relatively self-reliant economy and protect it from erosion by global economic forces.

III

The inidividualistic assumption I have discussed above works with others to increase the gap between the rich and the poor and, I believe, to worsen the lot of the poor absolutely. This is closely related to the weakening of community. In a true community the well-being of all is of concern to all. Hence provision is made to care for those who cannot care for themselves. The basic needs of all are met as long as the community as a whole has the resources to do so.

When there are only individuals competing in the market, this does not happen. Some individuals may feel disposed to care for other individuals who need help. But there is no broader sense of being members one of another, such that the needs of all lay a claim on all. The majority will care for the minority through corporate institutions only if they are persuaded that this is to their individual benefit. This is often difficult to argue when people are encouraged to measure their benefit in terms of economic gain.

Furthermore, when the market replaces community as primary, competition replaces cooperation and mutual support. The competition may lead to greater total production and consumption, but by its nature it leads to winners and losers. In the long run there are likely to be fewer and fewer winners and more and more losers. The gap between winners and losers grows wider. In short, the market, when other forces do not intervene, concentrates wealth in fewer and fewer hands. When wealth is the primary determinant of power, the dominance of the market concentrates power in the same way. Globally, and in the United States, we have gone far down this path.

The extension of the free market across sociopolitical boundaries compounds the problem. Especially if wages and working conditions differ in the countries included, pressure is downward in the more prosperous country. But it is rarely upward in the less prosperous one.

This is because countries must compete with one another for capital investment, and poor countries compete primarily by offering low wages and few restrictions. For example, wages in Mexico have gone down since NAFTA. With the increasing globalization of the economy, workers in Mexico are forced to compete with those in Central America, Haiti, and south China. The market will raise wages only if labor becomes globally scarce -- a highly unlikely scenario.

The ending of community by globalization thus renews the almost total dominance of capital over labor. It reduces the capacity of countries to care for their unemployed. In short, it enriches those with capital and impoverishes those who have only labor to offer in the market place.

On the international level the International Monetary Fund is responsible for preventing nations from reneging on their debts. This is for the sake of maintining global investing and trade. This means that banks can lend governments money with little fear that they will not be repaid. When governments are unable to repay, the IMF lends them money by which the repayments can be made. In exchange for the loan it imposes conditions that insure that the money to repay the IMF will come from the poor.

This effect of the global economy, based on individualistic thinking, is accepted because of other assumptions. One is Pareto optimality. This is the doctrine that we cannot compare the benefits to one person with those to another. Our goal must be to benefit some without hurting others. How much some benefit while others do not does not matter as long as there are no losses. Of course benefits and losses are measured in terms of the ability to consume.

Pareto optimality counts against an interest in how the increasing global wealth is distributed. As long as the total wealth increases and noone is impoverished, it is satisfactory that the only beneficiaries are the rich. One cannot say that a thousand dollars added to annual income benefits a poor person more than a rich one. For those who accept this principle, preference for less inequality is a matter of personal taste.

Another assumption important in US policy is that full employment is inflationary and that inflation works against the proper functioning of the economy. The Philips curve is said to show that unemployment of less than five or six per cent is to be avoided for this reason. The reasoning is that if labor becomes scarce, there will be "wage inflation", that is, wages (especially at the lower end) will rise. This will raise the costs of goods. If there is sufficient competition for low-wage jobs, this can be avoided. During the period that this has been the official policy of the government of the United States, real wages have fallen despite a great increase of GDP.

It is obvious that these economic theories that support the impoverishment of the poor are not beyond challenge. Against Pareto optimality, one may argue that the benefits of gains to those lacking basic necessities add much more human well-being than the addition of numbers to wealth used only to create more wealth. Against the view that "wage inflation" is to be avoided one can argue that precisely the increase of wages is urgently needed for a just society. Workers should participate at least equally in the increasing national wealth. One may further challenge the claim that in fact low unemployment is necessarily inflationary. There is historical evidence that it is not. But the moral argument must be that whether or not it is, a living wage should be a higher priority that avoidance of mild inflation.

IV

In addition to concentrating wealth and power in fewer and fewer hands, the present system is impoverishing the Earth. I trust it is not necessary to recite the horrors that humanity is inflicting on other species and on the Earth-system generally. I will assume that we are agreed about the already occurring catastrophes and the threat of more terrible ones in the next century.

When we ask why it is so difficulty to address this issue effectively, once again we come back to economic theory. According to economic theory generally, environmental issues are not important. The exhaustion of resources is not a threat since technology will always enable us to replace one resource with another. Pollution is a cost of growth that can be internalized and paid for without reducing the importance of growth. Global warming falls in this category.

Fortunately, many economists as human beings know that environmental issues must be taken seriously. On the edges of the main discipline there has been resource economics, land economics, and environmental economics. But it is very difficult to recast basic economic thinking so as take their concerns into account.

The reason has to do again with basic assumptions. The only way in which the natural world has played a role in the mainstream of modern economic thinking is as "land". The French physiocrats, viewing the economy primarily in terms of agriculture, regarded land as the primary factor of production. Adam Smith included it alongside capital and labor. However, economic theory in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was informed more by the industrial revolution than by agriculture. In industry capital and labor were the essential categories. Land was dropped as a factor of production and became instead a commodity to be bought and sold.

In the latter part of the eighteenth century, Henry George developed an economic theory that gave a special place to land. For a few decades it constituted a major challenge to both Marxist and capitalist theories. But the mainstream of economic thought successfully marginalized it and continued to exclude land as a distinct category from any significant role.

Since both capitalist and Marxist theory developed without consideration of the contribution of the natural world to the economy, any consideration of nature as something other than a commodity falls outside the discipline of economics. It is physicists and biologists who express concern about the natural world and its capacity to sustain our abuse. Economic theory suggests that their concerns are misplaced, and it is economic theory that guides most policies.

Clearly there is no inherent necessity that economic thinking forever exclude consideration of the natural world. It was not excluded by the physiocrats or by Henry George. It is now not excluded by environmental economics. Even some mainstream economists acknowledge that it has some distinctive characteristics. It is time, indeed long past time, to insist that economic theory be developed with a fundamentally different view of nature.

What should that view be? If economics were based on the model of individual people as persons-in-community, so that it aimed at the strengthening of communities, it could extend the understanding of community to include the natural environment. At least in a loose sense, people can be in community with other creatures. In any case the health and of the human community is inexorably bound up with the health of its natural environment. We may say either that economics should aim at the health of community understood to include both human and nonhuman creatures or that it should aim at the health of human community in its natural environment. That issue is terminological. That the economy, and any measure of its success, should serve the Earth, understanding the Earth to include its inhabitants, and especially its human inhabitants, is clear. It is also clear that this implies a very different understanding of economics from the now prevalent one.

V

One may still think that we can and should change the way the system works without challenging the theoretical assumptions of the academic discipline of economics. This is, indeed, possible. We could focus on overcoming the first of the assumptions noted, an assumption that is not part of economic theory but rather of contemporary politics, namely, the primacy of the economy in shaping human welfare.

We could then make clear that what is now called economics is better defined as marketology, the study of market activity. We could call for a new academic discipline much more like what Aristotle called oikonomia, the study of the how the oikos should be managed. And finally we could insist that the oikos be understood as it is in contemporary ecology. Under these circumstances the present academic discipline could be left largely intact, but it would play a much more modest role both in the university and in society as a whole.

 

 

 

 

Will Economism End in Time?

We live in a world in which the economic order reigns. National and international decisions are made primarily in terms of expected results for the economy. Even issues of national sovereignty are subordinated to economic considerations. This organization of the world's life and institutions, together with the underlying belief system, I call "economism".

In an economistic society the highest good is wealth. Of course, many will say that the reason for seeking the increase of wealth is that only in this way can human needs be met. Originally, it was important to the belief system of economism that it hold that the global increase of goods and services be for the benefit of humanity. But for practical purposes it is now the increase of goods and services rather than the good of humanity as defined in any other way that governs policy and action.

From a Christian point of view it is obvious that this is idolatry. Idolatry is making primary and central -- treating as the object of ultimate devotion -- something unworthy of that status, something other than God. This particular idolatry was directly rejected by Jesus according to both Matthew and Luke. We are told that no one can serve both God and wealth. Clearly, therefore, the global system does not now serve God.

On these grounds Christians must condemn economism. But sheer condemnation is useless and often worse than useless. It sounds self-righteous, as if Christians thought that we could organize the world in a way that is not based on idolatry. But we have not demonstrated that. We did organize much of European society over many centuries, and much that we did was good. But looking back it is clear that we, too, were idolaters. We treated one form of Christianity or another as absolute, destroying those who did not agree. It was our institutions and belief systems, not God, that ordered society when we were in power.

We need, therefore, to approach the present, economistic age with greater humility and a broader and deeper analysis. If we are to call for its ending, it cannot be simply because it is idolatrous, since it may be that every human ordering of society will be tainted with idolatry. We can validly call for the ending of this form of idolatry only as we can point toward the prospects of a less idolatrous society, one that has a better chance of serving God through serving God's creatures. Let us, then, consider briefly how we came to our present situation, whether we can envision a better one, and what prospects there may be of moving into that more promising future.

I am proposing a theological periodization of history. The history I am considering is that of what we call "the West". At first this was the Western Roman Empire and the societies that succeeded it. Later it spread across the Atlantic to include Canada and the United States. The history of Eastern Europe is different, and the histories of the Islamic, South Asian, East Asian, African, and Latin American worlds are even more different.

Nevertheless, the history I am tracing has a unique importance for the whole planet. It is the patterns that emerged in this history that now determine much of what happens in the process of globalization. The now regnant economism has sucked much of the world into its orbit, even those parts whose histories have not prepared them for this development.

The first period of Western history, then, is one in which Christianity was the dominant force. It lasted for more than a thousand years. It shaped the institutions of society and undergirded them with a system of belief. Most people in the West identified themselves first and foremost as Christians. They were more willing to make personal sacrifices for Christian goals and purposes than for any others. It was as Christians that they went to war, engaged in conquests, and sought to convert others. I call this system of society and beliefs "Christianism".

Christian fervor did not decline gradually. On the contrary, it reached a kind of apex in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Beginning with the Reformation, however, different forms of Christianity competed with one another, and much of Christian fervor was devoted to supporting one form against others. This led to fratricidal confawct on a mass scale. The first half of the seventeenth century saw religious warfare threaten to destroy the fabric of society. Most Christians turned against Christianism. They looked to the political authorities to enforce peace among warring Christian groups.

Obviously this was possible only because political authorities had exercised considerable power throughout the Christianist period. Military and police power was exercised by them. Still, during the Christianist period, they understood themselves to derive their legitimacy from Christianity. When they struggled with the church for power, the debate was about the right way to organize a Christian society. They understood themselves, no less than the church, to be in the service of Christianity.

Beginning in the middle of the seventeenth century, this changed. Theological beliefs were not to be allowed to disturb the political order. New theories emerged to justify the exercise of political power that did not depend on Christianity. More and more the nation state superseded Christianity as the object of devotion. Nationalism became the ordering principle of society.

As nationalism assumed dominance, many people began to identify themselves first and foremost as Frenchmen and Englishmen rather than as Christians. It was for France and England, and later, Germany and Italy, that they were willing to make great sacrifices including giving their lives in war. Gradually the nation state took over such services as education and care for the sick and indigent that had previously been the responsibility of the church. National languages replaced Latin, and this accompanied a heightened sense of the particularity of each ethnic group. The nation state was less and less understood to be closely allied with any one form of Christianity.

Nationalism established peace among competing religious groups but generated wars between nations. These became increasingly bitter and destructive. The first half of the twentieth century saw two World Wars in which enthnocentric nationalism reached a fever pitch. Nationalism destroyed its credibility during that period much as Christianism had done three hundred years earlier.

By the end of World War II, nationalism was discredited. Europe could not be reconstructed on a nationalist basis. This did not bring an end to nations, any more than the nationalist reordering of Europe earlier had ended churches. But nations agreed to put their shared interests ahead of their competitive ones, and they identified their shared interests as economic. Europe was reorganized as the European Economic Community.

In the United States the change was far less dramatic. American nationalism was not as obviously discredited. The United States emerged as one of the world's two great military powers. The competition with the Soviet Union in some ways heightened U.S. nationalism.

On the other hand, even in the United States the issue was formulated not in terms of national glory but in terms of competing economic systems. American power was said to be in the service of Western democracy, which was understood as inseparable from free enterprise, or the capitalist, system. Furthermore, it became increasingly clear that we Americans did not exercise our power so much to advance human rights and democratic freedoms as to insure our economic wellbeing and that of our allies by expanding the capitalist world. The shift from political to economic considerations was apparent in the United States as well.

On a more global basis, the shift from nationalism to economism has been apparent in the development of global institutions. The end of World War II saw the creation of the United Nations as a political organization of sovereign states. But it also saw the creation at Bretton Woods of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. Officially, these institutions were under the United Nations, but they quickly established their independence. During the following half century there has been a massive shift of power from the United Nations to the Bretton Woods institutions.

This shift has been promoted especially by the United States. As it became clear that the ideas of development advocated by Third World nations in the UN General Assembly involved some shift of power from the industrial nations to developing ones, the United States moved the power to act in this field away from the United Nations to the IMF and the World Bank. The dominance of established financial interests was thus secured.

The structural adjustment imposed by the IMF and the World Bank on debtor countries as a condition of aiding them to renegotiate their debts has transformed the relative power of governments and economic actors. The role of structurally adjusted governments is to serve the global economy. The theory is that by doing so their own economies will grow and that encouraging such growth is the primary role of governments. In practice there have been few successes even as measured in strictly economistic terms.

Further, much of the energy of the United States in international diplomacy have gone into the successive rounds of negotiations called the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. The announced goal of these agreements has been to reduce barriers to trade. Each agreement has further restricted the power of nation states to establish boundaries around their own markets, forcing them to open their markets to others. This involves a surrender of national sovereignty to establish policies according to the desires of the people in each country. The World Trade Organization is the outcome of these negotiations; and nations, including the United States, have granted extensive sovereignty to this organization to overrule national laws, and laws of subnational political units, deemed in restraint of global trade.

The United States has been a major actor in the attempt to go still further in the transfer of authority from governments to economic actors. It has pushed the Multilateral Agreement on Investments. If enacted, this would disempower governments from passing legislation that could hurt international investors. For example, a government could not create laws to preserve its environment if these added to the costs of factories established by transnational corporations. If these corporations believed their interests had been injured, they could take the government to court -- not in the courts of that country to be judged by its laws -- but in special courts set up to adjudicate between governments and corporations for the sake of maintaining the free flow of capital. Each corporation is thereby placed on the same legal footing as a national government.

There is sufficient nationalism in the United States that as the implications of the MAI became apparent, opposition arose, and Clinton withdrew the measure. Whether it will ever be passed by Congress is uncertain, but no doubt its measures will be imposed on Second and Third World countries through structural adjustment and other devices. Since the main concern all along has been to further disempower the governments of these countries, proponents may be satisfied.

II

Thus far I have been descriptive without concealing my concerns about economism. I need now to say explicitly why I am opposed to it.

First, I believe that people should have a role in determining the system and policies that shape their lives. Democratic political institutions provide a possibility for them to play such a role even if we complain how poorly they work in practice. Corporations are not organized so as to provide such a role to any except stockholders. Even with regard to most stockholders they work no better than popular democracy works with respect to ordinary citizens. The number of people with a significant influence on corporate policy is usually quite small. To transfer power from governments which can be influenced by popular desires to corporations which cannot works diametrically against important convictions that most Christians today share.

Second, the aims of corporations to grow and make more profits are inimical to the wellbeing of the natural world. Individual leaders in the corporate world may be deeply concerned about species diversity, global warming, the pollution of the oceans, the loss of forest cover, and many other matters. But corporations are not established to serve future generations or nonhuman creatures. They are established first and foremost to make a profit.

If we could count on corporations to think of profits over the longrun, such as fifty years, there would be many opportunities to show that their selfinterest coincided with some of the environmental needs. Unfortunately, even those corporate leaders who individually think this way are rarely able to act on these considerations. The global financial system is oriented to very short run profits, and corporations are forced to give major attention to these.

We can rejoice that in spite of these pressures there are moves among corporate leaders to develop principles of responsibility in relation to the environment. We must honor those who swim against the stream for the sake of the rest of us. But this does not justify the shift of power from the political system which can express the concerns of people for their grandchildren and for the nonhuman world to economic institutions for which these considerations are typically felt as interfering with their primary goals.

Third, the transfer of power to economic institutions has not reduced poverty. It is certainly true that the industrial revolution has led to the reduction of poverty in a good number of countries. But this is not an argument for economism. Those countries in which poverty has been virtually eliminated achieved this goal by government control and government policies. The global economy is now exercising increasing pressures on these countries to abandon just those policies that have had these results, leaving the distribution of goods and services to the market. The United States never went very far toward the elimination of poverty, but its recent market-oriented policies have led to its increase. In Europe the policies that have guaranteed all citizens a share in the national prosperity are under siege. The more closely nations follow the ideals of economism, the greater the gap becomes between the rich and the poor.

It is evident that global production is now sufficient to meet the needs of all. The problem is distribution. Economism succeeds in increasing production, but it works against the kind of distribution that would go far to justify this increasing production, even at some cost to the environment. It is simply not the case that global economic growth by itself reduces poverty. Nor is it the case that poverty cannot be reduced without growth.

The evil of economism becomes even more apparent when we view environmental concerns and poverty together. I have said that today production suffices to meet the needs of all. But this may not continue to be the case. Economistic policies degrade land an water, rendering them less able to produce food in the future. To keep up with the needs of a growing global population may no be possible. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that while the number of the poor does not decline, the ability of the affluent to consume grows greater. The prospects of feeding the world through an economistic system are bleak.

For reasons such as these, we must hope for the end of economism. But simply to oppose does little good. What would follow economism? Should we call for a resurgence of nationalism?

Surely this is an inadequate goal! Watching the destructive power of nationalism in Eastern Europe reminds us of the even greater destructive power it has, in the past, exercised in the West. If we call for a return to nationalism, it must be a very different form, one of which we do not now have any clear vision.

Yet I cannot avoid some support for nationalism today. I do favor the renewal of national control of national economies. If people are to have any say in the matters that determine their lives, this must be through governmental channels. And today in most parts of the world, the only governments capable of regaining such control are national ones.

This may not be true in Europe. The European parliament may be able to exercise such a role. There may be an increasing division of power between national governments and international ones of this sort. That would be a great gain. It would mean that problems that could be dealt with at the level of nations would be dealt with there but that those that could be dealt with better on a continental basis, would be treated there. Similar political structures are desirable in other parts of the world.

Since many problems are now global, they cannot be dealt with adequately even at the continental level. This has been recognized in the development of such global institutions as the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the World Trade Organization. But all of these were brought into being to support the globalization of the economy. They are protected from influence by the people of the world. If, as I have emphasized, the economy should be in the service of wider human purposes, and these are best determined by popular participation through governments, then global economic institutions must be subordinated to global political organizations. The General Assembly of the United Nations is currently the best candidate to assume this role.

This means that the principle that economic actors should be subordinated to governments does not entail the renewal of the nationalism that has led to such horrors. It could and should lead to new political structures. If the economy continues to be ever more global, it would lead to a great concentration of political power at the global level. The United Nations would have to evolve into a world government with considerable centralized power. Only that would be able to control the enormous transnational corporations that now rule the world.

Although I am convinced that a global economy calls for a global government, I am not happy with this outcome. Even if the global government is far more subject to the will of the world's people than are transnational corporations, it is very far removed from ordinary people. Few will feel that their voices are adequately heard. Because of their great wealth, the corporations will be far more effective lobbyists than will popular movements. The cynicism about the lack of independence of legislators from corporate interests, already so extensive in the United States, is likely to generate widespread alienation from the political process across the globe.

For reasons such as these, we urgently need a new vision of a livable future that can motivate our efforts to bring an end to the era of economism. I propose that such a vision is already emerging and gaining increasing power. I call it Earthism.

III

Nationalism could not have replaced Christianism had it not been richly developed before it was called upon to assume dominance. Economism could not have replaced nationalism had it not been well developed theoretically and practically for a long time, especially since the industrial revolution and the rise of modern economic theory in the late eighteenth century. Earthism can replace economism only as its vision and its theoretical support for that vision are well developed and widely accepted. Also, it requires institutional embodiment.

It is my thesis that these conditions are now being met. As a global movement I date the beginnings of Earthism with the United Nations Earth Summit at Rio de Janeiro. This does not mean that the official summit was a triumph of Earthism! Quite the contrary. The United States saw to it that economism remained almost unscathed. It was acknowledged that economic development should be sustainable, and this opened the door to fresh discussion. Also, environmental considerations gained a higher profile in some official circles. But no credence was given to the need for a new paradigm or direction.

Nevertheless, during the Rio conference nongovernmental organizations organized a parallel event a few miles away. These NGO's came from all parts of the world and focused on diverse issues. Among these, issues of justice, of overcoming poverty, of true development, and of the environment were prominent. Often in the past environmentalists had seemed to clash with those most concerned about the poor and oppressed. But by 1992, the situation had changed. The representatives of these many groups had come to see that the economistic policies adopted by almost all nations were the common enemy. Their consensus expressed itself in "The People's Earth Declaration: a Proactive Agenda for the Future".

The change accomplished by this event is so important that it deserves restatement in different ways. Prior to Rio there were many criticisms of the effects of economistic policies on the poor, on traditional societies, on indigenous peoples, and on the environment. They sometimes achieved minor adjustments of the policies they opposed, but the situation they bemoaned grew globally worse. The opponents of the dominant system could sometimes be played off against one another. There was no positive unifying vision of an attractive alternative.

At the International NGO Forum near Rio in 1992 that changed. The NGOs articulated a shared critique of the regnant economism and clarified what would be involved in a different ordering of the world. Since then at every United Nations meeting, they have built on that platform and enriched it. It is this growing consensus that I call Earthism.

The term Earthism highlights the attention to the environment that was a major motivating force for holding the UN conference. But the NGO statement balances that emphasis by dealing primarily with how human needs are to be met. The focus on the Earth is not on the planet in separation from its human inhabitants but on the planet as the way of speaking of people and their home together.

Of course, the NGOs call, as I have, for subordinating the economic order to the wider needs of humanity. But their consensus goes far beyond that. They call for decentralization of economic power and activity. Their vision is of "relatively self-contained local economies that control and manage their own productive resources." This would make possible also the decentralization of a considerable amount of political power, without again subordinating the political to the economic.

There is a strongly religious note in this document, and this is clearly acknowledged. "Our thinking," the document states, "has also been enriched by the teachings of the many religious traditions represented among us. We recognize the central place of spiritual values and spiritual development in the societies we seek to create. We commit ourselves to live by the values of simplicity, love, peace, and reverence for life shared by all religious traditions."

It is my judgment that today Earthism is the only movement capable of replacing economism. Obviously, it has not done so. The reign of economism is more complete than ever before. Nevertheless, there are signs of hope.

First, the religious fervor behind economism is eroding. It is now experienced more as the established orthodoxy than as the hope of the world's salvation. Those who once saw it in the latter light are now far more modest in their claims. The argument in its favor is more often that it is a fait accompli, or that the nationalism it replaces was worse, or that a reversal now would lead to chaos and suffering. It is kept alive more by those who benefit from it -- and who control the media and most governments -- rather than by true believers. In short the passionate conviction that once propelled it is fading.

Second, its failures become ever more apparent. The collapse of the Southeast Asia economies that had been hailed as the great success stories of economistic policies has discredited the vision in the eyes of many. The experience of Eastern Europe has hardly supported the claims of those who persuaded it to adopt an undisciplined form of the market economy. Defenders of economism will continue to explain that all of its failures are due to the refusal of the nations of the world to implement economistic policies purely. For them the fault always lies with the limitations still imposed by nations or the corruptions due to continuation of precapitalist patterns. If the market were truly given a free hand, they insist, all would be well.

We Christians know this argument well. In response to those who would discredit Christianity by pointing to the sins and failures of Christendom, we have pointed out that no people or nation has ever embodied Christianity in its fullness and purity. The fault, we have said, lies with these distorting elements and not with our own ideal teaching. But just because we know this argument well, we know not to be taken in by it. Those who have struggled hardest to force society into what they have understood to be the Christian mold have also done great damage. The evidence is that the implementation of the ideals of economism is inherently destructive, not only the distortions.

Third, the theoretical foundations of economism are weak. The model of the human being that undergirds economic theory is obviously abstracted from real human beings. For the purpose of analyzing what happens in the market, such abstraction has considerable justification. But this does not justify ordering society as a whole around Homo economicus. Human beings are poorly understood by this purely individualistic model. They are better understood as persons-in-community. Also the virtual exclusion of the natural world from economic theory renders it highly inappropriate at a time when the fate of that world is crucial for all. People are increasingly recognized that the economy itself is far too important to be left to those who deal with it in such abstract ways and that society as a whole is too rich to be placed in the service of the market.

Fourth, once the idealism that has been captured by the globalization of the market collapses, the issues can be viewed realistically in terms of who gains and who loses. It then becomes obvious that a few gain and that many lose. The many who lose will then be able to ally themselves with those who offer an alternative that will benefit them. Earthists will have a large audience.

I do not mean that bringing an end to the reign of economism will be easy. Even when the idealism associated with it is gone, the power behind it is enormous and becomes greater every day. Those who benefit from it tend to be the best educated, the most articulate, and the most politically active people in society. They are the ones with greatest resources and correspondingly, with greatest power. They control our politicians, our "news", our education, our entertainment, and increasingly our legal system. Even our churches are far from free of their dominance. They will not easily yield their power.

IV

What is the role of Christians in all this? I should first explain that Christians are not limited to Christianists. Christianists are those who work for the dominance of Christianity. There have been many Christianists in the world, and in spite of chastening experiences, there continue to be some now. But these are not the Christians among which I locate myself or to whom I am speaking.

While many Christianists fought one another in order to control and shape the correct Christian society, many Christians were revolted by the resulting slaughter and sought for a way to establish peace and tolerance among Christian groups. They turned to political authority for this purpose. They recognized the danger of idolatry inherent in nationalism, but the best of them opposed that tendency while undertaking to be truly patriotic.

This experiment failed. Just as most Christians during the time of Christianism succumbed to that idolatry, so most Christians during the epoch of nationalism succumbed to that idolatry. We must regretfully confess that we have in general failed to engender that kind of faith in God that relativizes all worldly loyalties. Fortunately, some have understood, and the record is not all one of failure.

A shift of focus from the political order to the economic one has seemed attractive and desirable to many Christians. It offered peace among long-warring nations and cooperation in providing the good things of life to more and more people. It offered interdependence among all the world's peoples. It proposed moving us to the one world of which many Christians dreamed.

Now that dream in its turn has gone sour. Although we no longer fear war between France and Germany, we have redirected our war against the poor. We call it low-intensity conflict. We have greatly expanded the production of goods and services (at considerable expense to the environment), but we have left the poor ever farther behind. The vaunted interdependence of the world's peoples turns out to be the dependence of all on a few centers of an economic power that is wielded with indifference to the fate of the dependent people. It has brought the affluent everywhere to an increasingly homogenized world, while leaving the poor in hopelessness. More and more of us are disillusioned.

We now have an alternative to support. It is an alternative to whose formation we have contributed. It takes seriously the integrity of God's creation. It puts people first, and especially indigenous people and the poor. It seeks to empower them to play a role in shaping their own lives. It subordinates the economic order to larger human ones.

It is difficult for me to understand how we can withhold our support. We know, of course, that the danger of idolatry lurks here as well. But ultimate devotion to the Earth and all its inhabitants is far less dangerous than ultimate devotion to Christianity, to nations, or to economic growth. The Earth is not God, but to point that out is not to discredit Earthism as currently the one positive force available to supersede economism. Our first step as Christians should be to support Earthism in its struggle to stop the destructive course of events under the aegis of economism and to redirect human society.

Once this step is taken, Christians can contribute to the formulation of Earthism. It is still a young movement with many diverse potentials within itself. Some are much more acceptable to Christians than others. Earthists are currently remarkably open to help from Christians. We should bring not only our practical help but also the wisdom we have gained from two millenia of experience.

The reason that the idolatry involved in devotion to the Earth is less dangerous than other idolatries is because the Earth includes far more of God's creation. Most of our actions have little effect on any other part of that creation; so limiting our devotion to this one planet has few negative consequences. Nevertheless, this Earth is in fact a very small part of the whole of creation. The time could come when, as in so much science fiction, Earthlings come in contact with beings from other parts of the universe. Then the idolatry of Earthism would become apparent.

There are subtler and more practical problems with Earthism. It is clear that it involves maintaining and perhaps expanding the planet's carrying capacity for the sake of its inhabitants, both human and nonhuman. It is clear that it involves also meeting the basic needs of all people or rather, providing the context in which people can meet their own basic needs. But does it seek a relatively static situation in which the planet as it now is, or recently was, becomes the ideal to be preserved? Or does it hold some ideal for what the Earth should become?

At this stage, when Earthism seeks to articulate and provide an alternative to economism, these and many other questions may not be practically important. But even in its infancy the seeds of future development are laid. And should economism collapse more quickly than any of us anticipate, and Earthism come into power, many questions that now seem "academic" would become practically important. It is not too early to begin reflecting upon them.

Of course, Christians will not speak with one voice on matters of this sort. But I will speak for myself as a Christian. I believe that God works through creatures, especially human ones, that that work is transformative, that we cannot know in advance just where such transformation will lead, but that we can distinguish God's transforming work when it occurs from other kinds of changes. For me to be an Earthist is to seek to shape a world in which God's transforming work can be most effective and to be open to its guidance in shaping and reshaping my own vision of that world. Meanwhile it leads me to expect that others will have insights and wisdom that I lack, so that I am called to listen and learn as well as to share.

I discern God's work in the International NGO Forum where the views of many were enriched in their interaction with one another. The resulting document does not put itself forward as a final and definitive statement. It invites criticism and development. In this whole process there is a minimum of idolatry. It is to be heartily commended. But we all know that what begins in openness and transformation can become congealed into a final word to be defended against those with differing insights. It is my hope that Christians can help Earthists to guard against that human tendency.

We are aided in avoiding idolatry by distinguishing the Spirit that is working in us from the specific results of the work. Thus we will be most faithful to the Earthist movement when we continue to hear and obey the voice of God, not when we defend what has resulted from such hearing in the past. Whether other Earthists can share this understanding with us cannot be determined in advance, but the distinction between God and what God has brought into being may be our greatest contribution.

There are specific doctrinal points at which we may also have contributions to make. Among Earthists there are some who are markedly anthropocentric. For them, as for economistic thinkers, the value of the other creatures is their value to us. There are others who insist that human life is of no greater value than any other form of life, that all are equally to be respected.

Christians who enter that argument must recognize that we have ourselves been anthropocentric for most of our history. Our insistence on the primacy of God has not led us to much concern for God's other creatures. It has been enough to relate God to all human souls. Nevertheless, in recent years we have repented. We have recognized that humanity is one part of a much larger creation for which God cares. We have acknowledged that our anthropocentrism has been a form of idolatry -- a very destructive one.

On the other hand, the fact that God created other creatures and saw that they were good quite independently of their relation to human beings does not mean that each creature is of equal value with every other. Jesus does not deny the value of each sparrow to God, quite the contrary. But Jesus tells us that a human being is of far greater value to God than a sparrow. Even in the Genesis account there is some implicit ranking, and human beings are singled out for special responsibilities and special privileges.

Those who object to a hierarchical ordering of creatures often complain that this is an extension of anthropomorphism. We grade the value of creatures according to their attractiveness to us. For Christians there is, in principle, another possibility. We can grade creatures according to their contribution to the divine life. We can judge that the value lost to God through the death of an earthworm is less than what is lost through the death of a fish, and that that in turn is less than what is lost through the death of a bear. We may be wrong in our judgments, of course, but that does not mean that we should not make them.

Among Earthists there are others who reject this whole process of valuing individual creatures. For them what is important is the health of ecosystems. This health is maintained through an endless cycle of birth and death with creatures feeding upon other creatures. These Earthists view those concerned with the suffering and death of individual animals as sentimental. Those who have focused on reducing animal suffering are equally harsh in their judgments of those who trivialize their concerns.

Christians can bring some reconciliation here as well. Certainly the health of ecosystems is of extreme importance for all of us. The wellbeing of our children and grandchildren depends on sustaining many ecosystems. Without such ecosystems the individual animal about whose suffering we are concerned would not even exist.

But if we ask ultimately why we care about ecosystems, it must be for the sake of the individual creatures who make them up and who will make them up in the future. If these creatures have no value, then the ecosystem has no value. Intrinsic value lies in individuals, not in systems. Belittling of concern about animal suffering is mistaken.

On the other hand, it is obvious that normal life in a healthy ecosystem includes a great deal of suffering as well as a great deal of enjoyment on the part of the creatures that make it up. Any effort on our part to reduce the suffering would probably be counterproductive. The ecologists are right to discourage any intervention for this purpose.

But in fact those who work to reduce animal suffering rarely have such matters in mind. They are not trying to protect prey from predators in the wild. It is the human acts that so greatly increase animal suffering against which they protest. That protest is valid.

Of course, conflicts between these two complementary concerns are inevitable. If ecologists decide that a particular exotic species is disrupting an ecosystem, they may call for its destruction. They may not oppose the use of traps or other particularly cruel methods in this process. This may evoke strong reaction from animal protectionists. But a wider vision can usually do justice to both sides. The destructive species can often be removed in relatively humane ways.

Sometimes Christians can provide deeper grounding for Earthist intuitions. One of these is that biodiversity is good. Earthists are appalled by the decimation of this diversity as habitat is destroyed. Often they argue that some of these species may have great value for human beings, providing some now unknown medicine, for example. But their reasons for opposing the reduction of biodiversity are much deeper.

Christians share that sense of loss. But they can explain it better. The loss of diversity is the loss of the potential for rich experience. A homogenized world cannot contribute to experience the contrasts that give it intensity. This cuts against the loss of known species and of a certain number of unknown ones. But no human being will ever be able to be enriched by the experience of hundreds of thousands of species of beetles. Hence the argument there is weak.

The story of Noah affirms that God cares about biodiverity. We know that the vast variety of species is known by God. God's experience is enriched by this variety. The destruction of species impoverishes the future contribution of the world to the life of God. For God's sake we are to refrain from simplifying the complexity of the created world.

V

My argument in this paper has been that economism, like its predecessors Christianism and nationalism, is proving destructive. The destruction this time is global and in danger of becoming irreversible. It is important that economism come to an end.

The one new movement that has now emerged capable of challenging the hegemony of economism is Earthism. Although it, like all the others, is subject to idolatrous understanding, the conflict between serving the Earth and serving God is far less than the conflicts engendered by serving Christianity, nation states, or economic growth. Christians should rejoice in the rise of this new spiritual force and give their support to it. They can work within this movement to clarify its thinking and help to preserve it from its own idolatry.

 

 

Can Corporations Assume Responsibility for the Environment?

In the past few decades we have witnessed a massive transfer of power from nation states to corporations. Of course, corporations have been powerful actors for a long time. In the late nineteenth century they were able to control many politicians in the United States and thereby acquire what they wanted. This process has continued to our own time. As the cost of running for office has increased, the problem has grown worse.

Both major political parties in the United States are so beholden to moneyed interests that, on a wide range of issues, there is little that distinguishes them. Since the same interests control the popular media as well, most people are not aware how poorly the interests of the middle class and the poor are represented in Congress. The Democrats at best slow down the dismantling of such programs as had real benefits for the poor. Since the poor contribute little money to campaigns and do not vote in large numbers, there is little incentive to help them.

Still, my statement of the transfer of power from nation states to corporations envisions something that goes far beyond this. Before World War II, despite the power of corporations, they were primarily national entities. In principle, and to some extent in fact, they could be, and were, regulated by national governments. They were expected to work for the national interest, and in part they were themselves influenced by nationalist sentiments. The dominant ideology of the time was nationalism.

Since World War II, the most important corporations have become transnational. The idea that these might subordinate their financial interests to that of a particular nation hardly comes into play. They relate to nations in such a way as to maximize profits, and they seek to be free of national restrictions. What is remarkable is the extent to which they have attained this freedom.

Of course, this freedom from national governments would not have been achieved apart from the great power of their money to influence political leaders. Nevertheless, their success would have been much less had they lacked the strong support of the dominant economic theory. This theory teaches that governmental intervention in the market inhibits its proper functioning. It is this functioning of the market that increases the prosperity of all. Hence, so the argument goes, governmental restriction on market activity should be minimized. Since market activity is dominated by corporations, this is tantamount to arguing that government regulation of corporations should be minimized.

This theory applied to national corporations and played a large role in supporting their growth and relative autonomy within nations. But since World War II another step has been taken. The same economic theory argues that the larger the market the better. Therefore, restricting the activities of corporations by national boundaries is also opposed. The abandonment of such restrictions is known as "free trade", and the movement toward freer and freer trade has been understood as progress.

A third factor leading to the surrender of national power to corporations was idealistic internationalism. In the United States this grew up in reaction to political isolationism. Many Americans had wanted to stay out of world affairs, especially, the wars among European states. But many idealists felt that the United States should play its proper role in the world, for example, by encouraging democracy everywhere.

Internationalists usually saw protection of a national economy as part of the isolationism to which they were opposed. They believed that trade between nations contributed to peace and to prosperity in both. Hence they advocated lowering the tariff barriers that had been so important a part of the nineteenth- century economy.

After World War II the United States emerged as the world's most powerful nation economically as well as militarily. Isolationism was an irrelevant ideology. Internationalism continued as an idealistic commitment expressing itself in the creation of the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank. But internationalism also took the form of competition for power with the Soviet Union.

The reduction of barriers to trade was not only an expression of idealistic internationalism, it was also an instrument of leadership in the Cold War. Trade could bind other nations to our side in this war. Even when trade agreements required sacrifice on the part of particular American industries, they were often insisted upon by the U.S. State Department for reasons of national security.

Although the United States has led in the post World War II movement toward free trade, many other governments have voluntarily reduced their control over their own borders so far as business transactions are concerned. Those that have resisted doing so have had enormous pressure exerted upon them. This has been particularly true since 1980.

In the first half of the period since World War II, many developing countries sought to improve their national economies. Some, such as Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan were remarkably successful in this endeavor, and many others made some progress. But the dominant economic and internationalist ideology, as well as the interests of the great transnational corporations, opposed these national economies as obstacles to the ideal situation -- a truly global market in which national boundaries were erased. Since 1980 this ideal has been progressively realized at breathtaking speed.

The first great instrument to this end was structural adjustment. Most developing countries borrowed heavily in the seventies in order to pay for more costly oil imports and because loans were so available and so cheap. When interest rates rose they found themselves unable to make even interest payments. This provided the opportunity for the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank to insist on changes in public policy that opened these countries far more to transnational corporations. This pressure continues to the present.

This pressure has been intensified by the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and the subsequent creation of the World Trade Organization. The avowed and actual purpose of these organizations is to reduce barriers to investment and trade, thereby shifting power from national governments to TNCs. The next step is the currently proposed Multilateral Agreement on Investments which, if enacted, will still further restrict the ability of governments to influence the nature of economic activity within their national boundaries. It will give TNCs equal status with governments in courts of law that are no longer national. Although political objections to this further surrender of national sovereignty may prevent ratification of this agreement, it is likely that its provisions will be implemented, so far as "developing" countries are concerned through the structural adjustments imposed by the IMF.

In recent years environmentalists have expressed alarm over the effects of this shift of power from governments to TNCs. Governments have interests other than trade, including the protection of the environment and the preservation of resources for use in the future. TNCs are constituted for the purpose of making a profit for their stockholders. Leaving the consequences for the environment entirely in their hands appears dangerous, and thus far the effects have in fact been very bad.

These objections were raised in the United States with regard to the North American Free Trade Agreement. Environmentalists allied themselves with labor in opposing this agreement. To reduce this opposition, the Clinton administration negotiated side agreements on the topics of the environment and labor. The environmental movement was split. Some organizations supported NAFTA with its side agreements on the grounds that for the first time a trade agreement took environmental considerations into account. Others viewed the environmental side agreement as weak and unenforcable and continued to oppose NAFTA. The split weakened opposition to NAFTA sufficiently to secure its passage.

In the case of GATT the administration promised environmental opponents that the next round of negotiations would deal with environmental issues. Defeated on NAFTA, the opposition was weak. Subsequent experience with side agreements on NAFTA has been so bad that environmentalists await the next round of GATT with little optimism.

Somewhat more promising has been the recent record of the World Bank. For decades World Bank loans went for development projects that were usually environmentally destructive. Despite some positive rhetoric on the part of McNamara, environmental issues remained peripheral until the mid-eighties. Then, gradually, and with accelerating seriousness in the nineties, the World Bank attended to the environmental effects of its loans.

However, during the same period the role of the Bank in development has markedly declined. This was partly due to its own policies. These had been geared to encouraging private investment, and finally, in the nineties, these have risen to a flood tide that dwarfs the Bank's direct contributions. Hence, although the Bank's own loans are now, for the most part, sensitive to environmental issues, the Bank no longer plays much role in determining whether development projects generally will have this sensitivity.

II

This long introduction to my paper is to set the stage for recognizing the importance of the question that is its title: "Can Corporations Assume Responsibility for the Environment?" There are some reasons for optimism. TNCs are attracting many of the finest minds and spirits to their employ. Many of these people have genuine concern for the future of the Earth. And TNCs collectively have the power to make the difference.

Nevertheless, there are great obstacles. What stockholders expect of corporations is economic success. Furthermore, at least in the United States, this is measured in short spans of time. Capital is extremely mobile; so many stockholders are more interested in policies that quickly raise stock prices, enabling them to sell at a profit, than in policies that would work for the long-term good of the company. Policies that might be both better for the environment and more profitable in the long run are often rejected because they do not have the desired immediate effects. CEOs who view matters in terms of the longer time-span are likely to be replaced by those who will take whatever actions are needed for immediate profit.

In addition, corporations must be competitive. To be competitive, costs must be kept low. Keeping costs low often requires actions that are environmentally destructive. To fail to take such actions when similar ones are taken by competitors can have severely detrimental effects on a corporation.

On the other hand, even within this competitive, profit-driven context there is freedom for positive action. Often environmentally favorable actions are also profitable. Pointing this out has been the special mission of Amory and Hunter Lovins through the Rocky Mountain Institute.

For example, reducing energy use through greater efficiency saves money. The initial outlay is typically larger, but it can be shown that within a short time savings cover this initial cost. A simple example is the switch to fixtures that generate equal light with a fourth of the electricity. But the Lovins have demonstrated that efficient and economical use of energy goes far beyond this. They have built a home and office building high in the Colorado Rockies that depends on passive solar energy for its heating and cooling. They believe that the extra cost of construction was paid back in savings from the first year's utility costs. The drive for profits can lead both individuals and corporations to build in ways that greatly reduce the use of fossil fuels and other sources of electricity.

One might suppose that such a shift would be bitterly opposed by the providers of gas and electricity. But the Lovins have shown electric utility companies that they can make a better profit if their customers use less electricity. This is because new facilities are far more expensive than the old ones. If efficient use of old plants can supply the needed electricity, providers can avoid the large expenses involved in building additional ones. Accordingly, many electric utilities now give rebates to customers who buy more efficient appliances such as refrigerators. Similarly, natural gas companies sometimes subsidize insulation of homes.

The Lovins are optimistic that market forces will lead automakers to produce cars that are far more energy efficient. These will also generate far less pollution. The Lovins believe that the targets for reduced emission of greenhouse gases set at Kyoto can be met on a voluntary basis as Clinton proposes. Indeed, they were instrumental in persuading Clinton of this possibility.

Nevertheless, it has been clear that market forces do not bring about these changes automatically. People in business operate not only with profits in view but also out of deep-seated habits of mind with regard to how profits are earned. They typically assume that their job is to increase sales. The Lovins had to do a great deal of explanation to persuade directors of electric utilities that this did not apply to their business. Still, the deeper commitment to maximize profits could be appealed to as a basis for changing tactics. To achieve the needed change, the openmindedness, flexibility, and environmental concern of business leaders has also been important.

That there is still great resistance to the needed changes was shown by the concerted opposition on the part of American oil and automotive corporations to any significant agreement at Kyoto. At least in the United States, it would be unwise to expect that corporations will assume responsibility for the environment apart from external pressure and massive changes within them. Nevertheless, the fact that many environmentally favorable actions can be profitable indicates, at least, that goodwill, environmental sensitivity, and moral concern among corporate leaders can lead to some of the urgent changes without violation of their responsibility to stockholders.

The Lovins have shown brilliantly that There are some reasons for optimism. TNCs are attracting many of the finest minds and spirits to their employ. Many of these people have genuine concern for the future of the Earth. And TNCs collectively have the power to make the difference.There are places where Garrett Hardin's "tragedy of the commons" is more relevant. This principle is that what is economically beneficial to the individual, or individual corporation, may be detrimental to the common good. Hardin's illustration is about a pasture, shared by one hundred families, that can sustainably support one hundred cows. The common good requires that each family put only one cow in the pasture. But an individual family would profit from introducing a second cow. That family would double the benefit it receives from the common pasture while sharing only one one-hundredth of the loss from the gradual decline of the pasture. If decisions are left to individuals, and if rational behavior is understood to be that which benefits the actor, the result will undercut the good of all.

A contemporary example is fisheries. If each company acts independently for its own interests, a shared fishery is destroyed. There have been many illustrations of this.

To save the commons there must be something else at work. One possibility is for all interested corporations to come to agreement among themselves. There are significant movements in this direction. Most of the agreements have been somewhat general. That is, a good many corporations have adopted principles designed to reduce the likelihood of environmental destruction. The Valdes Principles are an example. I do not, however, know of any fishery that has been saved in this way.

Apart from the difficulty of competitors gathering in a spirit of mutual trust to save the commons, there is also the danger that one existing competitor will not agree, or that a new company will see an opportunity to take advantage of the restraint of the established ones. Beyond that, there is the difficulty of enforcement. Historically, corporations have not been organized for the purpose of public enforcement of rules. If the question about corporations taking primary responsibility for environmental matters points to such voluntary agreements and compliance, it is difficult to be optimistic.

The second possibility is that enforcement be through national laws. If the commons are located entirely within one nation, this is the historic way of dealing with the problem. The national government establishes and enforces laws. If the laws are wise and equitable, the companies themselves benefit in the long run. Insightful corporate leadership will support such government action, since it enables companies to behave morally and in their long-term self-interest, without losing out to competitors. In fact, unfortunately, corporations have often worked to limit such government regulations.

Needless to say, government regulation has not always worked well. Sometimes the regulations are foolish or unnecessarily cumbersome. As we saw also, governments are very responsive to corporate wealth and influence, and they often subordinate the long-term common good to the short-term gains of individual corporations or simply of governmental leaders themselves. Nevertheless, governments are, in principle, subject to public pressure in ways that corporations, especially TNCs are not. And governments have the means of enforcement built into their structure.

The global economy reduces the role of this traditional pattern in two ways. First, restriction on the exploitation of resources in one country can lead to the shift of investment to a more compliant one. Jobs and taxes are lost. There is pressure to ease restrictions and, thus, the well-known race to the bottom in terms of environmental protection and other standards. Competition among nations to attract investment, a central element in the global economy, works against the environment.

Second, many commons are transnational. The oceans and Antarctica are two that have attracted special attention. But tropical forests, biodiversity, and the purity of the air all point to this transnational character of many of our commons. Individual nations cannot deal with these adequately.

Accordingly, international agreements are needed. Some of these have been achieved when sufficient attention has been focused by the scientific and ethical communities on particular issues. The most impressive achievement was the Montreal Protocols designed to slow the destruction of the ozone layer. In time we will learn whether the agreements at Kyoto presage a similar success with respect to slowing global warming.

An alternative to ad hoc international meetings is permanent international organizations. The United Nations is the most important such organization, but partly because of United States policy, it has little ability to formulate or police environmental rules. There are some reasons for optimism. TNCs are attracting many of the finest minds and spirits to their employ. Many of these people have genuine concern for the future of the Earth. And TNCs collectively have the power to make the difference. More specifically, this protection will be through the WTO. This is because this organization has more power to enforce its rulings on First World nations, and because corporations prefer to deal with it. Thus far the rules it enforces are those that compel countries to open their borders and to reduce restrictions on trade. The power of the WTO works against environmental rules within countries. It serves corporate interests in promoting trade. But as the need to protect the environment is increasingly recognized, it is likely that the WTO will assume a somewhat more positive role.

If this happens, we will have a real test of the ability of corporate leadership to accept responsibility for the environment. The WTO, although an international governmental organization in official structure, is primarily a creature of the TNCs. The standards it sets for environmental protection will reflect the desires of these corporations. If among TNC leaders there is a real desire for the protection of the commons against their exploitation for immediate profit, this will be reflected in the policies adopted by the WTO. If the primary interest of corporate leadership continues to be expanding markets and freedom from imposed restrictions, WTO protection of the commons will be very limited indeed.

My argument is that just as the Lovins have succeeded in persuading an important sector of corporate leadership that efficient use of resources is profitable, someone will need to persuade corporate leadership that all will benefit in the long run from restraint in the exploitation of the global commons. It is in fact in their self-interest to establish rules protecting the commons and to have an international agency with enforcement powers compel all to observe those rules. But recognition of this self-interest will require changes of habit at least as deep as that involved in recognizing that reduing demand is in some cases more profitable.

Personally, I am not happy that the future of the Earth is now in the hands of corporations rather than governments. I believe that power should be in the hands of those who have other goals than economic gain in view as part of their primary job description. Governments, including both legislators and administrators, are supposed to aim at the common good. Corporate CEOs have primary responsibility to stockholders in their capacity as stockholders, and not in their capacity as global citizens. To place on their shoulders the responsibilities that belong to the political sphere is unwise and unhealthy. My first choice would be a massive effort to return power to the people and their elected representatives. My primary efforts will be directed to that goal.

Nevertheless, I recognize that the shift of power has gone so far that, for the foreseeable future, corporations will rule the world. How they rule it is a matter of great concern to all of us. The new rulers are people like ourselves with moral principles and concern for the wellbeing of their children and grandchildren. As they recognize the extent of their power, some are also recognizing that their responsibility must be for all those affected by their actions and not only their stockholders. They must continue to serve the latter. But within that service they still have room to consider proposals for the common good. A great deal depends on whether their narrower habits of mind based on historically narrower definitions of their responsibility can change in time. We should rejoice at all the activity suggesting that a change is occurring.

III

I have presented this account of our present situation with no reference to process thought. I believe it stands on its own feet and can be judged with respect to its accuracy independently of the philosophical perspective of the author. Nevertheless, it is my belief that perspective influences what we notice. I believe that the point of view that I have derived from my internalization of Whitehead's philosophy helps me to raise broader, more inclusive, questions, than are asked by those whose points of view are shaped chiefly in schools of business, the study of international relations, or immersion in economic theory. But this does not mean that one who approaches matters from one of those perspectives cannot recognize the truth of what I have said from my Whiteheadian perspective.

The difference between point of view and what is seen from that point of view can be illustrated from the case of Amory Lovins about whom I have spoken. Lovins was a physicist employed by Friends of the Earth. His own perspective was informed by great concern for what current human activities are doing to the Earth. Viewing matters in this way he was appalled by wasteful use of resources. He studied this waste and discovered that it was often unprofitable in strictly business terms. He then separated his argument about profits from the point of view that had led him to discover this truth. When he approaches a utility company, he does not begin with his love of the Earth and his deep concern for its future. The big picture almost disappears in his presentation.

I believe that much of the time we Whiteheadians need to operate in the same way. We need to describe the world we see from our perspective in ways that fit with what people see from other perspectives. We will not explain the point of view from which we are looking.

If we have the opportunity to address CEOs of TNCs directly, our emphasis should be on the advantages to them of having a level playing field whose shared rules would preserve the commons. The argument would be that on this basis they should help to develop the needed rules and support their enforcement.

This paper has been directed not to the CEOs but to those concerned for the global environment, asking where we can look for leadership to address the issues, and how we should approach those with such ability. This required a somewhat broader picture. But it was still a limited one in relation to what a Whiteheadian sees.

The chief limitation is the omission of the masses of the Earth's human inhabitants from the picture. I could omit this without a bad conscience because I am convinced that their wellbeing is intimately bound up with that of the other creatures with whom we share the Earth. Accordingly, if we act for the sake of the environment we will in fact be acting also for the people who inhabit it, even if we do not focus attention on them.

Of course, there are times when there are tensions between these two concerns; so in a larger discussion they need to be distinguished and the tensions dealt with. But the commonality of interest is primary.

Seeing that commonality of interest, and therefore being to focus on the environment, has, in my case, been facilitated by my Whiteheadian point of view. Those who approach matters from a dualistic point of view often miss this commonality of long-term interest, seeing primarily the tensions. But we who are aware of the deep interconnectedness of all things, notice how the true wellbeing of one part of creation supports that of others, and we are led to see how policies that reduce pressure on resources and defend the commons also give opportunities to the poor to survive and even prosper.

I suspect also that my attention to the big picture has been facilitated by my Whiteheadian perspective. Most accounts focus either on the economic scene or the political one, interpreting events in one set of categories or the other. The relationship of the the two spheres, and in particular the shift in dominance from the political to the economic one is rarely highlighted. Yet it is more important for the understanding of our history than what is happening in either sphere viewed separately. Whitehead helps us to ask the more inclusive questions by freeing us from disciplinary and bureaucratic boundaries.

I do not, of course, say that only Whiteheadians see things in these ways. Fortunately, we have allies. But we have our own distinctive contributions to make. And I believe that we can make them while entering into the public conversation, describing what we see in as acceptable and accessible a language as possible. Perhaps by doing so we can help bring about some reframing of the public discussion so as to focus on the truly important issues of our day.

 

 

Against Free Trade: A Meeting of Opposites

Those of us on the left who the ideology of free trade are sometimes accused of having strange bedfellows, notably Ross Perot and Patrick Buchanan. But this meeting of left and right may not be so surprising. The differences that once divided the major political parties have been superseded by new issues on which the dominant Republican and Democratic forces converge.

Buchanan quotes Christian Kopf as saying: "The real divisions of our time are not between left and right but between nations and the globalist delusion." Buchanan agrees with Kopf that nations should maintain or recover their sovereignty. For the opposing position, Buchanan quotes George C. Ball: "The urgent need of modern man [is] to use the world’s resources in the most efficient manner. That can be achieved only when all the factors necessary for the production and use of goods—capital, labor, raw materials and plant facilities—are freely mobilized and deployed according to the most efficient pattern—and that in turn will be possible only when national boundaries no longer play a critical role in defining economic horizons."

Ball’s view has become orthodoxy in both political parties, in the world of business and finance and in the universities. Even those who oppose particular steps toward the realization of this vision often insist that they accept the ideal. Those who believe that this transfer of power from political to economic institutions is unwise, even disastrous, are in the minority. No dissident voice is louder or clearer on this topic than Patrick Buchanan’s.

Of course, since he speaks from the Republican right and I am a former leftist Democrat who has become a Green, I am not always comfortable with his formulations. I came to my opposition to free trade chiefly from seeing its effects on Third World people and the natural environment. Buchanan shows no interest either in the environment or in the Third World. He writes as an ardent U.S. nationalist. He asserts that it is the rightful nature of nations to compete; hence, America needs to look out for itself. Buchanan has little interest in international cooperation for the common good.

Despite our differences, Buchanan and I share a deep concern for the effects of free trade on U.S. workers. While our nation’s elite have celebrated the great prosperity brought by globalizing the economy, wages have declined. Buchanan provides some sobering statistics. "Between 1972 and 1994, real wages of working Americans fell 19 percent." The gap between the minimum wage and a living wage increases.

In order to maintain the lifestyle to which families became accustomed during healthier times, even mothers with young children must enter the work force. "In 1960 only 18 percent of women with children under the age of six were in the work force; by 1995 the figure had soared to 63 percent." Despite the second income working mothers provide, "in the first six years of the 1990s, the median family income fell 6 percent." Meanwhile, unemployment rises among American men. "Since 1966 the share of American men with jobs has fallen from 85.4 percent to 76.8 percent. Idle men end up in trouble, often in prison, where 1.1 million American males now reside." Buchanan’s conversion to economic nationalism resulted from becoming aware of the losses sustained by the American working class.

Buchanan also deplores the ever growing division of America into a class society. He notes that "America’s wealthiest 1 percent, which controlled 21 percent of America’s wealth in 1949, now [1995] controls 40 percent... Top CEO salaries—44 times the average wage of a worker in 1965—have soared to 212 times." For Buchanan the globalization of the economy explains the decline in the position of American workers. This globalization has ended the epoch of responsible nationalist industrialists whose patriotism was expressed in concern for both their stockholders and their workers. These are Buchanan’s heroes. He barely acknowledges the role of labor unions in improving the condition of workers or the systematic weakening of these unions, to which globalization was a major contributor.

Buchanan also ignores factors other than globalization that have contributed to the impoverishment of workers. For example, the tax burden has steadily shifted from the rich to the poor. Although Buchanan protests the increased burden of taxes on workers, he does not criticize the easing of the burden on the rich.

A still more important factor ignored by Buchanan has been the victory of the standard economic theory that 5 to 7 percent unemployment is needed to prevent inflation. Despite lack of evidence to support it, this theory has determined our economic policy during the same period that the globalization of the economy has accelerated. It makes a permanent underclass a centerpiece of national policy, to be enforced by the Federal Reserve Board through its control of interest rates. This national commitment to high unemployment means that those who are currently unemployed can find work only by displacing those who now work. Importing farm workers from Mexico, legally and illegally, also ensures competition for low-paying work. National leaders can then play off hardworking, low-paid laborers against immigrants and those who receive the dole, directing workers’ resentments away from those who control the economy and prevent full employment. Buchanan has nothing to say about how these policies exacerbate the problem of the poor.

Nevertheless, Buchanan is right in citing the globalization of the economy as the single most important factor in the destruction of the laboring middle class. This destruction may be the most important social and economic development of the past quarter century. Churches have hardly even protested this development. Despite its limitations and exaggerations, Buchanan’s book is an important contribution to our understanding of the effects of free trade on U.S. workers. And he can reach an audience that is closed to those whose concern is primarily for the poor and for the environment.

Buchanan convincingly argues that political internationalism has supported economic globalism. In his account, it has been internationalist idealism among politicians rather than business and financial interests that has led to the removal of trade barriers. Those on the left tend to suppose that government policy has long been too much affected by Wall Street. Buchanan, coming from the right, tells a different story.

In his account of the 19th-century struggle between protectionists and free traders, Buchanan shows that economic interests were primary. To understand that struggle, it is important to know that tariffs constituted the major revenue of the national treasury. In the eyes of protectionists they also provided a wall behind which the national economy could grow.

In Buchanan’s persuasive telling of the story, the tensions between the northern and southern states were determined more directly by tariffs than by slavery. Northern industrialists and factory workers needed protection from European competitors. They sought and obtained tariffs, and flourished behind this protective wall. Southern agriculturalists suffered from these tariffs, since they exchanged their products for European manufactured goods. The South’s tariff payments into the national treasury financed the North’s infrastructure. The mission of Charleston’s Fort Sumter was to ensure collection of these tariffs. According to Buchanan, Lincoln’s reputation for strong support of high tariffs played a larger role than his antislavery sentiments in precipitating secession.

Similarly, the issue of tariffs contributed directly to the northern decision to use military force to prevent secession. The Confederacy’s constitution established free trade. This severely threatened the North, since not only would it lose the tariffs that southerners paid into the national coffers, but it would be unable to prevent tariff-free goods from crossing the border from the Confederacy into the Union. National revenues would be greatly reduced, and industrial development would be threatened.

Buchanan’s emphasis on the influence of economic interests on politics in his discussions of the 19th century is startlingly absent in his account of the triumph of the free-trade ideology in the 20th century. Indeed, he presents this triumph as consistently contrary to the interests of American business. According to Buchanan, free trade was forced on American business by political internationalists. It is only since the destruction of nationalist businesses that their successors, the great transnational corporations, have allied themselves with political internationalism in favor of free trade.

Buchanan does not accuse those who have brought us economic globalism of ill will or bad faith, partly because he was himself an ardent supporter of free trade during his time of government service under Ronald Reagan. His conversion is recent, and he knows that systems of belief are at issue.

He traces the beginning of the triumph of the free-trade ideology to Cordell Hull. Hull was a true internationalist. "He bemoaned the fact that the great tariff battles of his youth were ‘fought on the home grounds that high tariffs or low tariffs were good or bad for the United States as a purely domestic matter. There was little or no thought to their effect on other countries, little or no thought of their effect on world peace.’" Since tariffs were the main source of government revenue, Hull knew that they could not be reduced without establishing an alternate source. Accordingly, in Congress in 1913 he authored the Underwood Tariff, which reduced tariffs and introduced income taxes as a permanent feature of the nation’s revenue. This shift of revenue away from tariffs has continued steadily to the present. "By the 1990s customs duties that once produced 50-90 percent of U.S. revenue would yield 1/2 percent."

The shift from taxing imported goods to taxing American incomes is now complete. As secretary of state under Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Hull continued to act out of the conviction that "unhampered trade dovetailed with peace, high tariffs, trade barriers, and unfair economic competition, with war." Congress gave him freedom to negotiate bilateral trade agreements. Matters became worse after World War II. Internationalists placed good relations with allies above economic interests and gave other nations advantages that undercut American business. Generous trade agreements were also used to secure support during the cold war.

In the conventional telling of history, what has worked most effectively to advance free trade is the Smoot-Hawley Tariff. When Vice-President Al Gore debated Ross Perot on television, he linked Perot’s opposition to NAFTA with that "infamous" bill. He could simply assume that everyone believed Smoot-Hawley’s results were terrible. Buchanan reports that when he was serving under Reagan he oversaw the president’s "veto messages killing legislation to protect the shoe and textile industries. I made sure that one referred to the ‘infamous Smoot-Hawley Tariff.’" In supporting Bill Clinton’s work to pass NAFTA, Gerald Ford warned against any repetition of that "stupid, serious mistake."

But as Buchanan’s eyes were opened to the effects of free trade, his understanding of Smoot-Hawley changed. He concluded that "the charge that Smoot-Hawley was a cause of the Great Depression, Hitler, and World War II is a myth perpetuated by free trade zealots." Buchanan’s study of Smoot-Hawley should forever silence the absurd charges against it.

Though it is sometimes claimed that this tariff, or the threat of it, played a role in the stock market crash which took place six months before it was enacted, Smoot-Hawley essentially had nothing to do with the crash. Only one-third of imports were affected by the tariff and total imports amounted to just 4 percent of the GNP. Economists Ravi Batra and Milton Friedman concur that Smoot-Hawley "played no significant role in either causing the depression or prolonging it."

Equally absurd is the idea that Smoot-Hawley contributed in any significant way to the rise of Hitler or to World War II. Its effect on international relations and on internal developments in Germany were trivial. Though a few nations did retaliate against a few selected products, Smoot-Hawley played only a modest role in the global movements back and forth between protectionism and free trade. Roosevelt’s slashing of tariff rates had no noticeable tendency to end the depression.

Buchanan is well aware of how deeply the free-trade doctrine is established in both the internationalist left and the conservative right. "As I began to write skeptically of free trade, I discovered that I was trampling on holy ground." He went to the Cato Institute to discuss his challenge to George Bush, requesting that they leave the trade issue aside. "The session had not lasted five minutes before it reached the shouting stage over my ‘protectionism.’ I began to realize that free trade is a matter about which it is not acceptable to dissent and remain inside the church." The understanding of free trade as a religious issue is not casual hyperbole. Buchanan shows that as Christian eschatology lost its convincing power, a new community of believers arose, claiming that free trade would bring in the hoped-for fulfillment of history.

John Maynard Keynes began his career as a true believer in free trade. As secretary of the Cambridge University Free Trade Association, he wrote in 1923: "We must hold to free trade, in its widest interpretation, as an inflexible dogma, to which no exception is admitted, wherever the decision rests with us... . We should hold to free trade as a principle of international morals, and not merely as a doctrine of economic advantage." Later Keynes underwent a conversion, stating, "Defense of free trade theory is, I submit, the result of pure intellectual error, due to a complete misunderstanding of the theory of equilibrium in international trade." But the vast majority of economists continue to follow the early Keynes. During the fight over NAFTA, the New Republic asserted: "It may not be too great a flight of rhetoric to say that at this crossroads of post—cold war history, Pat Buchanan and Ross Perot represent the cause of evil."

The facts about America’s working class are a challenge to free-trade ideology. But facts alone will not shake the confidence of those committed to the ideology that now rules the world: neoliberal economics. Buchanan’s historical and factual protest must be supplemented by a theoretical debate in which Christian theologians should participate.

Buchanan is optimistic. He believes that neither NAFTA nor GATT would pass Congress today and that the American people will not support any further steps toward the extension of the global market. He believes, indeed, that the move from a national to a global economy can still be reversed despite his opponents’ insistence that the integration of the global economy is inevitable. His practical proposals with respect to tariffs and taxes are worthy of serious attention. Should we rejoice with Buchanan that a turn from free-trade ideology may yet be possible? Or should we deplore the nationalist threat to the goal of a global free market, which would diminish the power and role of nations? Or should we oppose both nationalism and global economism in the name of a wider loyalty to the earth and all its people? If we take the latter position, we need to articulate the implications of our faith as clearly as true believers in free trade have stated theirs and as Buchanan has articulated the requirements of economic nationalism.

Process Theology and the Bible: How Science Has Changed Our View of God

I

Christian theology is necessarily rooted in the Bible. Nevertheless, the role the Bible plays in theology varies greatly among theologies. At one extreme are theologies that regard their task as systematizing the teaching of the Bible. At the other extreme are theologies that take the best of contemporary thought as normative and then explain what sense can be made of basic biblical ideas in this context. In other instances, the tradition through the centuries plays the primary role. Here it is assumed that the church's teaching is the responsible development of biblical teaching, but the task is not so much to check this assumption as to build on the tradition.

Most theologies are not pure examples of any of these types. Those that systematize biblical teaching are usually influenced both by the ways this has been done in the tradition and by what seems credible today. Furthermore, Christians can hardly treat the Bible in a completely unhistorical way. Their treatment of the Jewish scriptures is influenced by the way these are dealt with in the New Testament, especially by Paul. Very few Christians believe that all the laws in the Pentateuch apply today. Only a few look to the Bible for understanding of the natural sciences.

Theologians who take contemporary thought as normative are selective within that thought. They must be, since contemporary thought is very diverse. They select aspects of contemporary thought that are promising for connecting to the Bible. Often they hold that these aspects of contemporary thought have indeed been derived from the Bible even if today this connection is often ignored. Further, most of those theologians who emphasize contemporary thought bring it into a dialectical relationship with the Bible.

Similarly, those who build on traditions typically do so by adjusting traditional teachings to new findings in history and the sciences. They understand tradition as an ongoing process rather than a completed body of teaching. Further, part of the new knowledge that is important to them comes from biblical studies. As we understand the Bible better, the tradition needs to be adjusted so as to reflect that understanding.

Process philosophy can play a role in any of these forms of theology. It can inform biblical theologians in helping them to overcome the weight of traditional categories of thought, derived from the Greeks, in the traditional interpretation of the Bible. It can suggest new ways of understanding the relationship between the Jewish scriptures and the New Testament. However, process thought is in tension with the idea that one consistent theology can emerge from the study of the Bible as a whole. It is also in tension with making a very sharp a distinction between what has been canonized by the church and other writings by faithful Jews and Christians.

Process thought is congenial to working within and from the tradition as long as that includes an emphasis on the dynamic character of tradition. Contemporary teaching should grow out of the tradition and be continuous with it, but it should not repeat what has been said in the past. God calls us to respond to the present situation, and that differs from all past situations. We appreciate our heritage and learn from it, but we are not bound by it. It empowers but does not limit. The best in our heritage points us toward the future rather than urging us to repeat the past.

Process theology is most often associated with the other form of theology I identified above. It takes one type of contemporary thought as normative, that is, a particular stream of philosophy -- process philosophy. Sometimes process theology is misidentified with what process philosophers have written about God and related topics. Since process theologians are heavily indebted to these writings, the confusion is understandable, all the more so, because the philosophers in question do not hide the influence of Christian thought on their work. Nevertheless, the writings of philosophers on religious topics are better described as philosophy of religion.

I understand theology, in distinction from philosophy of religion, to be intentionally Christian reflection about matters of importance. These matters include God, Jesus, the church, creation, salvation, and so forth, but they also include questions about how these beliefs are related to the human and natural sciences.

Process philosophers may recognize the influence of Christian faith on their thought, but they do not try to think about all matters from a Christian perspective. The role of the Bible in their thought is incidental. For one who thinks intentionally from a Christian perspective, faithfulness to the whole heritage, and especially to the Bible, is crucial. Process thought is employed in the service of theology out of the conviction that it illumines and facilitates the theological task. The choice of the process approach is itself a Christian decision.

The avowal of a Christian approach need not mean that the Christian theologian is less committed to truth and objectivity than anyone else. There are, of course, Christians who appeal to the Bible or Christian tradition as if the presence of an idea there guaranteed its truth. From my point of view, this appeal to authority is a travesty of Christian faith. As a Christian I am committed to seeking truth, wherever that quest will lead me, because God is Truth. Faith in God frees me from bondage to any human teaching, including that of the Christian tradition.

Obviously that does not mean that I reject all human teachings! A Christian tradition replete with teachings has nurtured and informed me and is the source of my commitment to truth as well as providing the perspective from which I seek truth. But that is a very different matter from the idolatrous absolutization of the Bible or the church. By giving the impression of closing themselves to reason and experience, Christians have too often excluded themselves from the public discussion of what is true.

Perhaps as a Christian I am more vividly aware of human finitude and the limitations of all human thought than are some others. The self-consciously Christian approach certainly emphasizes the importance of perspective. I try to be as aware as possible of the fact that my thought is perspectival, but I insist that the same is true for those who do not emphasize this fact and sometimes seem to claim that they transcend such limitations. Human thought is always from a particular point of view. To be clear about this and about the particular point of view from which one thinks, can move one toward objectivity, while never achieving it.

The representative of the process tradition who is most helpful to me as a Christian theologian is Alfred North Whitehead. I follow Whitehead for several reasons. First, I find his thought more congenial to, and supportive of, the biblical vision than that of any other twentieth-century philosopher. Second, I believe that he offers the most comprehensive vision of any such philosopher, and that this move to comprehensiveness is highly desirable from a Christian point of view. Third, I find his analysis of the way reality is, the most penetrating and satisfying one available. I believe my choice of Whitehead is a Christian choice.

Other Christians choose their allies in the contemporary scene on quite different grounds. Some believe that we should ally ourselves with whatever contemporary thinking is most widely accepted by thoughtful people. Some believe that ecause "reason" has so often turned into an enemy of faith, we should ally ourselves with those movements that critique the claims of reason. Today, these two types of judgment tend to support and reinforce each other, since the intellectual community is engaged in deconstructing the "reason" so highly touted in the Enlightenment. Far more leading theologians have allied themselves with analytic, postliberal, and deconstructive movements in contemporary thought than with process philosophy.

I will forbear to evaluate and discuss this choice and its consequences from my perspective. I will comment only that there are overlapping elements. The critique of the Enlightenment is shared by process thought and the now dominant intellectual tradition. Perhaps the major difference is that, whereas the dominant traditions see this critique as freeing theology to function as an independent discipline with little attention to the sciences, the process tradition sees this as an opportunity to reconstruct both theology and the sciences so as to bring them into a new synthesis.

Of course, choosing the process tradition has extensive effects on my reading of the Bible and tradition and my understanding of their authority. I have suggested that above in an abstract way. I will now offer one central example.

II

The Christian tradition from the second century has attributed to God almightiness or omnipotence. By this it has meant, usually, that God in fact controls everything that happens. The alternative reading is that God can control everything that happens but chooses not to do so.

Whitehead has a very different view of power. For him, the most significant form of power is not control but influence. He emphasizes persuasion over against coercion. This is the kind of power that parents and teachers want to exercise in relation to youth. The resort to coercion reflects the failure of persuasion. Persuasion or influence empowers the one who is affected.. Coercion disempowers.

With this understanding of power, the attribution to God of coercive power seems to be a mistake. Coercive power can kill and destroy, but it cannot bring life and wisdom and love into being. It is an inferior form of power. When we treat it as divine, we encourage the quest for controlling power by believers. Much harm has been done in human history by this traditional Christian doctrine. Parents seek to control their children. Men seek to control women. Rulers seek to control their subjects.

Furthermore, when we attribute to God a monopoly of controlling power, we must suppose that what happens in the world is what God wants to happen. This leads many people, appalled by what happens in history, to become atheists. Others continue to believe that there is divine control, but feel anger against God. It is very difficult to believe that God is love. The traditional problem of theodicy is simply insoluble.

Given this perspective, a process theologian looks again at scripture. Does scripture teach divine omnipotence of the type that has dominated the tradition? At first blush the reader of the English translation will come to assume that it does. Over and over again in the very first books of the Bible, one finds reference to "the Almighty" and to "God Almighty". It takes a little research to find that this is a quite arbitrary substitution for the proper name "Shaddai" or "El Shaddai". The substitution reflects the fact that the Septuagint translators of the Bible did not like to use a proper name for God and assumed already the belief that God is almighty. It tells us nothing about the beliefs of the original authors. That "Shaddai" was originally thought to be omnipotent is extremely improbable.

There is, of course, no question but that many biblical authors were impressed by the great power of God to control what happens. They tell stories that depict God in coercive roles. But as we move through the scriptures and analyze the accounts of how God deals with human beings, coercion is rare. The far more common account is of God's call and human response. This response frequently involves resistance. God's call is often persistent, and sometimes overcomes the resistance, but it does not compel. When we ask what kind of power is revealed in Jesus, coercion does not come to mind. When Jesus addresses God as "Abba", the connotation is not the "Father Almighty" of the Apostles Creed. Basically the power with which the gospels confront us is the power of love. Paul sees God's power revealed in what the world considers weakness.

When one reads the tradition with this sensitivity, one also finds that many theologians have emphasized persuasion and the human responsibility persuasion calls into being, far more than coercion. I am a Methodist, and I rejoice at the overwhelming primacy of persuasion in Wesley's understanding of God's dealing with the world. Nevertheless, controlling power has dominated the imagination of the church despite its peripheral role in the Bible. In our liturgies, we repeatedly address "Almighty God". When we substitute another word for "God", it is most commonly "the Almighty."

To reject this image of God is a radical theological act. Nevertheless, process theologians do so. When we do so, we do not believe that we are imposing modern philosophy on the Bible. We believe that we are releasing the Bible from bondage to alien ideas. We do not believe that we are rejecting our historical heritage. We believe that we are purifying it from a fundamentally unchristian concept, that is, one that conflicts with what is revealed about God in Jesus Christ and in the Pauline interpretation of the meaning of the Christ event.

III

I have been asked to speak on the role of science in changing the way we think of God. That makes sense to me. Before the rise of modern science there were quasi-scientific worldviews that deeply affected the way people thought of God. Many ancient peoples associated the sky with heaven and the heavenly bodies with deities. Our language still reflects this notion when we use "heavens" to refer both to the sky and to the divine realm. The resistance to Galileo was in part that his theories showed that the heavenly bodies had the same imperfect character as earthly ones. Once the new astronomy was established, it became impossible to locate God "above" in any literal sense, although here, too, the rhetoric lingers.

As science destroyed the "heavens" as the locus of deity, it created a vision of a unified material cosmos including, equally, the heavens and the earth. This whole cosmos was understood to obey mechanical laws. The model that informed much of early modern science, and is still influential today, was the medieval clock, complete with moving figures. This was probably the most complex machine of the time, operating by physical laws, but fulfilling a purpose. Obviously the purpose came from outside the clock, and its construction required a high degree of intelligence. Similarly, in the early modern period, most people, including most scientists, saw the cosmos as a very complex machine that was obviously made by a powerful mind of enormous intelligence. God was to the cosmos, as the clock-maker was to the clock.

There were, of course, some who denied the need to posit a maker for the universe, or who declared that such a maker would require a maker, ad infinitum. Nevertheless, well into the twentieth century, the scientific worldview seemed to most people in the English-speaking world to support belief in this kind of God. As long as it was assumed that the world that originally came into being was much like our present world, with human beings coming into existence abruptly in their present form, it was hard to think of origins in terms of chance and necessity. Cosmic purpose was required.

In this context, evolutionary thought was of critical importance. Evolutionary ideas had been around in a general way for a long time, going back to the Greeks. But evolution as a great explanatory principle grasped the imagination of the culture only through the work of Charles Darwin. Darwin's theories showed that complex forms of life, including the human, had come into existence by a gradual process over very long periods of time. What was originally created was something much, much simpler. Although Darwin himself seems to have retained a role for God in the origination of this simpler world, the need for God as Creator was now far less compelling. Also, in the standard formulation, chance and necessity were presented as adequate to explain the evolutionary process. For many people, including most scientists, this theory did away with the need of God as an explanatory hypothesis. Atheism or agnosticism replaced theism or deism as the dominant religion of the cultured. This remains the case to this day. God has virtually disappeared from the modern university.

Of course, the reasons for believing in God had never been limited to the theoretical need of a creator. Long before the rise of modern science, other lines of thought had developed. These included metaphysical analyses. Anselm created the ontological argument, which was modified and reaffirmed by Rene Descartes. Thomas Aquinas reflected about Being Itself and identified this with God. Mystical experience opened other channels for thought of God.

When the argument from creation to Creator had begun to lose convincing power, even before the rise of modern evolutionary thinking, Immanuel Kant proposed that we think of God in relation to our ethical experience rather than cosmology. German idealists located God in the transcendental ground of human experience. Kierkegaard had argued for a leap of faith that did not need rational warrant in any ordinary sense. Some have argued that belief in God is a supernatural gift of God not depending on any achievement of human reason.

The modern shift of the discussion of God from cosmology to metaphysics, mystical experience, morality, and supra-rational grounds itself reflects developments in scientific cosmology. These discussions do not depend directly, in other words, on particular developments in science, but they would not have flourished, or had such difficulty in gaining acceptance, if the scientific worldview had not seemed to exclude God. In this indirect way, that worldview continues to play a fundamental role in the discussion of God.

III

Process theologians belong to a tradition of thought that contests the view that the best interpretation of the scientific data excludes any causal role for God. One finds the antecedents of this tradition in early stages of discussion of Darwinian evolution. Instead of affirming the idea of evolution as supporting atheism or rejecting it because it did so, some Christians took the position that its acceptance changes the way we understand God's work in the world. Instead of viewing creation as a one-time act in the beginning, one could focus on the ongoing creative work of God. One could see continuity between the way God worked in gradually bringing life into being in all its complex forms, including the human, and God's continuing work in human history and in our lives at present. One could argue that this had religious advantages from a Christian point of view, since it emphasized what God is doing here and now in and with us rather than locating God's action in the distant past.

This way of thinking helped many to reconcile science and religion, at least superficially. The problem is that, for intellectual rigor, this tradition requires a critique of the dominant formulation of evolutionary theory. According to the dominant formulation, purpose is wholly excluded. Everything happens by chance and necessity. No place is left for God.

Some theists have accepted this challenge, arguing that it is the mechanistic assumptions of modern science rather than any empirical data that lead to this conclusion. This is the position of process theologians. We believe that all living things have purposes, largely unconscious, but still influential. Living things are not to be conceived as complex machines. Few people really believe that they themselves are complex machines with no purposes. But if human beings are a product of the evolutionary process, why do we suppose that the earlier participants in this process were wholly unlike us? That seems contrary to the whole implication of evolution. Instead of understanding evolution entirely in terms of our notions of the actions of material atoms, we should understand it also in terms of the character of what it has produced in us.

We believe that the actual data support the view that the creatures that evolved had many of the characteristics we find within ourselves. We believe that without their efforts to survive and adjust and make use of their environment to these ends, no evolution would have occurred. We believe that animals employed intelligence in these efforts. We believe that we can find the emergence of cultural elements in some animal species, and that these cultural elements affect their evolution. Animals other than humans learn from experience and intentionally imitate successful behavior. Ignoring all this, and treating all animals other than ourselves as purposeless, does not conform to common sense or to the evidence. Scientists need a better model than the clock, and we believe that they can find this in the organism.

You may ask what this has to do with God. If evolutionary biologists had not been so committed to excluding God from the evolutionary process, they might not so adamantly have denied the role of animal purpose in that process. If they could be sure that allowing a role for animal purpose would not open the door to theism, many might be willing to do so. But process theologians cannot offer them that assurance.

We believe that human purpose is possible only because of God. Real purpose aims at that which now is not. It cannot be explained in mechanistic or more broadly deterministic terms as the outcome of the causality of the past. Of course, it must be closely related to that past, but it transcends that causality. It occurs only because unrealized possibility is also felt in concrete experience. That in turn is possible because of God. In our language, God is continuously luring or calling us to be something more than we have been.

Most of what God is doing in our experience, just like most of the causal efficacy of the brain, is quite unconscious. We can examine the results of both in conscious experience. But the theory that the condition of the brain affects our experience is developed through experiments and not through direct inspection of experience. This is true even of the causal efficacy of bodily events in general upon us. The objects of vision and hearing dominate our conscious experience, and these are not found within the body. Yet immediate conscious experience does testify, albeit vaguely, to its bodily origins.

Similarly, the primal purposiveness that pervades experience is rarely objectified or reflected upon within the experience. Any awareness of its source or origin is vague indeed. Nevertheless, we can, through analysis, recognize that without the pervasive presence of purposiveness, experience would be very different indeed, and we can see that this purposiveness does not arise in the same way as the data of vision and hearing.

I have offered one example of how process theology radically revises traditional theology and one example of how it radically revises contemporary science. With these revisions, theology and science can be brought together. Contemporary science provides a picture of the world that is hard indeed to reconcile with an omnipotent God who controls, or could control, all that happens. What it has actually shown, on the other hand, is fully compatible with the effectiveness of a divine spirit that works in and through all things, bringing into being novel forms and new types of action. The Bible can be read as coming to its climax in an understanding of a God whose work in the world is always an expression of love rather than of force.

Let me make clear that I am not saying that if biologists acknowledged the role of animal purposes in evolution, they would be compelled to reintroduce God's activity as an explanatory element in biology. They would not. There would be no difficulty in stopping with the fact and reality of animal purpose and its role in evolution. The metaphysical source of that purposiveness will not affect the scientific theory.

However, the theoretical formulation of evolutionary theory would no longer systematically exclude a theological explanation. From my perspective as a process theologian, the theistic account is fuller and more fundamental, but it is not necessary to the advance of scientific research. All that I claim is that a view of God that is coherent with both science and the Bible could be affirmed. I believe this would be a significant gain.

IV

Many theologies have undertaken to revise traditional Christian teachings. In this respect process theology is part of a much larger theological community. But most of its associates in this respect have felt that they must leave the scientists alone to formulate the conclusions and implications of their disciplines. A few feminists have challenged the way scientists do this. Process theology supports them, but probably goes farther than any other theological school in this challenge.

The relation to science of process theology, including its doctrine of God, is two-sided. First, process theology intends to be completely open to what the sciences can teach us about the world. Second, it is critical of the worldview that developed with modern science and which is still extensively influential in the actual work of most scientists. This second point means that openness to what sciences can teach us does not lead to acceptance of the way most scientists present their findings. The distinction between findings and formulations is not always easy to make, but for process theology it is very important. I hope that my example of evolutionary theory helps to clarify this distinction and to show its importance.

In this concluding section, I want to illustrate again the two aspects of the relationship to science. First, I would like to illustrate from recent times the effect of new scientific developments on the understanding of God in process theology. Second, I want to illustrate how process thought can continue to contribute to reformulations of scientific theory.

Alfred North Whitehead, on whose thought we draw so extensively, developed his ideas when scientists thought of the universe as rather stable. He proposed, nevertheless, that it was gradually changing, that our "cosmic epoch", dominated by electromagnetic phenomena, would eventually give way to some other form of order.

In the second half of the twentieth century, a different picture has emerged. In this picture, what Whitehead called our "cosmic epoch" came to be abruptly out of nothing or virtually nothing. Whitehead's understanding of God posited that both God and the world are everlasting. The new cosmology suggests a more radical beginning than he envisioned. It gives some support to those who posit a creatio ex nihilo of the world.

There is no doubt that this requires rethinking of the relation of God and the world. Thus far, it seems that the changes required of the process doctrine of God, while significant, are fairly minor. We have emphasized the activity of God in each occasion as it arises and have de-emphasized any originating activity at the beginning of this cosmic epoch. Nevertheless, we have attributed to God the grounding of all order.

For process theology it is important to show that the "nothing" out of which the Big Bang occurred was not simply nothing. Many physicists grant this possibility, and some even seem to assume it. The "nothing' can be understood as what Whitehead calls "empty space", that is a field of events in which there are no enduring objects, nothing that can be measured or experienced through the senses. But physicists know that even in empty space there is energy, and for Whitehead, that means occasions of experience. It is out of this empty space that our cosmic epoch rather abruptly arose.

We now need to place more emphasis than before on God's establishment of the grounds of order. Physicists marvel that the physical constants are so finely tuned to the requirements of life. There is more reason now than when Whitehead wrote to understand the establishment of these constants as a divine act. The idea of one cosmic epoch evolving into another must give way to more dramatic ideas of beginnings and endings. This is a significant change in our thinking about God.

Incidentally, reflection about the origins of our cosmos is far from settled. As this reflection changes, our thinking about God should also change. It may also be that from the process perspective we can make suggestions about the formulation of new theories. Indeed, I have described above a Whiteheadian account of empty space to supersede an idea of pure nothingness as preceding the Big Bang. But chiefly we are dependent on the development of further evidence.

The theological enterprise of criticizing scientific formulations would have little prospect for success if it were not that scientists themselves have come to recognize the limits of the concepts they have employed during the past three centuries. There is more interest among physicists in process philosophy now than ever in the past. To understand this, and its impact on the doctrine of God, I need to remind you briefly of twentieth century developments. Currently, physical theory is in flux, and the proposal of process categories to replace the mechanistic ones, is a reasonable contribution to the discussion. Since those process categories have been connected with ideas of God inspired by the Bible, process theologians believe there is a chance in the twenty-first century to bring the long separated parts of human understanding into a new, coherent relationship. We assume that in the course of this discussion, theology, including process theology and its understanding of God, will continue to be modified.

Although some developments in nineteenth-century physics were in tension with the mechanistic model employed in their interpretation, this was little noticed. There was, indeed, a sense that the natural sciences were completing their task of explaining everything in terms of their model. Some wondered whether what remained to be done would be sufficiently challenging to warrant the choice of science as a life work.

In the early twentieth century the situation changed dramatically. The study of subatomic entities could not be made to fit with the existing scientific worldview. Relativity theory showed that the established notions of time and space must be radically rethought.

The great majority of physicists have continued to employ, in these new areas of study, the categories they had used so successfully in the previous centuries. These categories are substantialist. They derive from objects of sight and touch understood to endure through time.

Since process thought is defined by its rejection of this metaphysics and development of an alternative one, I need to explain this somewhat more clearly. Illustration is probably the best form of explanation. Let us ask ourselves what are the kinds of things of whose existence we are most confident. Probably you will think of sticks and stones, chairs and tables, trees and human bodies. Most philosophers have done so, and this kind of thinking has dominated the West.

Science wants not only to observe and categorize these objects but also to analyze them into their parts. These parts are assumed to be of the same general character, only smaller. From the Greeks on it seemed that one could break up any of these objects into its parts, and these parts into their parts. Eventually, however, one would come to an object that was no longer divisible. For this reason, this object of speculative thought was called an "atom", meaning that which could not be divided. The atom was the substance, par excellence, into which all compound substances could be analyzed. Some of the Greeks speculated that the whole world is composed of such atoms, that they do not change in themselves, but that they are in motion relative to one another. It is the various ways these come together that make up the material bodies that we see and touch.

Many modern scientists adopted this world picture. They were convinced that all things are composed of matter in motion and that the laws of physics control this motion. They believed that they had discovered the indivisible entities posited by Greek theory, and accordingly named these entities "atoms". In principle, they thought, if one could know the location and motion of each atom at a particular point in time, one could predict all subsequent events.

This vision was disrupted to some extent by the discovery that what were called atoms were in fact divisible. Their division opened up for study a whole array of subatomic entities. In itself this would have had minor philosophical consequences if the subatomic entities could be understood as smaller exemplars of the sorts of entities that physicists had been studying. The expectation that this would be the case expressed itself, and still expresses itself, in the widespread use of the notion of "particle" to identify subatomic entities.

The real problem was that these "particles" did not behave as particles should. It turned out that much of their behavior could be better interpreted if one brought to bear another category developed in the substantialist context. That is the category of a "wave". This is derived from movements on the surface of water and turns out to be applicable in many other areas. But it was assumed that ultimately a wave could be analyzed, like anything else, in terms of the movement of atoms. Unfortunately for these assumptions, it seemed that the individual subatomic entities often behave like waves instead of in the way a particle should behave. These entities could not, then, be viewed as substantial atoms.

The hold of substantialist metaphysics was so strong that, when the substantialist concepts failed to describe the subatomic entities, most scientists inclined to the view that no conceptual grasp is possible. These entities must be treated for some purposes as particles and for other purposes as waves. We must learn to be satisfied without the kind of understanding that science had previously sought. Science redefined itself and its task in terms of successful prediction of outcomes rather than expanding human understanding of nature. Since employing alternately the mathematics associated with particles and that associated with waves has led to a vast expansion of information about the subatomic world, many scientists have come to regard this new approach as satisfactory and adequate. The change in the understanding of science has encouraged the larger intellectual community to give up any effort at coherent, comprehensive understanding and to accept as ultimate the fragmentation of disciplines, and thus of knowledge.

From my point of view, however, it is fortunate that not all physicists are content to leave theory in this chaos. Some are open to rethinking the metaphysical assumptions that have led to these consequences. That is where process thought comes into the picture. Process thought proposes that events are more basic than are the kinds of things that have given rise to the notion of substance.

Since this is so central for process theology and for its relation to science, I will pause to emphasize and clarify this. Everyone knows that there are events. There are elections and conversations, football games and parties. Noone would be inclined to think of these as substances. Instead of enduring unchanged through time, they happen and are over, succeeded by other events. But as long as one is committed to substantialist thinking, one assumes that in the ultimate analysis the event can be understood in terms of matter in motion – atoms moving around in the void.

It is this assumption that is challenged and reversed by process thought. We can analyze an election into many events that make it up, and these into the events that make them up. This analysis reaches its terminus in events that can no longer be analyzed into parts which are themselves events. We may call these "unitary events", or, to follow the Greeks, "atomic events". In the case of the conversation, the most important of these unitary events will turn out to be momentary human experiences.

Of course, many of these unitary events will be more purely physical. These will be events in human bodies but also in the inanimate world. The question is whether these should be analyzed in terms of matter in motion. The failure of this project at the subatomic level suggests that they should not. We should identify those entities at this level that cannot be further analyzed as unitary events.

This means that, instead of analyzing events into matter in motion, we analyze matter and motion in terms of the field of events. This is the metaphysical reversal that process thought proposes. It has not gained a wide following, but it offers many advantages. Partly because our language is so deeply rooted in substance thinking, the shift to event thinking is very difficult. I do not expect to convert you through these few comments, but I hope that I can suggest to you that this may be worth thinking about.

In the version of process thought to which most process theologians subscribe, that especially influenced by Alfred North Whitehead, the unitary (or "atomic") events are understood to be occasions of experience. Every occasion is something for itself as well as something for others. Each comes into existence out of a world of completed events and contributes itself to the world of future events. Human experience in a moment is an example of such occasions, and the most fundamental character of all occasions can be found in an analysis of human experience.

A moment of human experience is largely constituted by its inclusion of elements of previous experience, elements derived from the body, and elements derived from the larger world. These derivations are relationships that bring what is other into what is present. An occasion of experience is largely to be understood as an integration of its world. It thereby becomes an entity that is given for future integrations. Most of this is below the level of consciousness. In most occasions it is entirely nonconscious.

If we think of events of this sort as fundamental, then we can see that each such event is a kind of microcosm of the whole field. Some patterns emerging in a field of events have the characteristics that have been associated with particles. Other patterns emerging in the same field have the characteristics associated with waves. It may be possible, therefore, to understand the particle- and wave-like characteristics of the subatomic world without resorting to conceptual contradictions.

I do not mean to suggest that a conceptual shift of this kind quickly resolves all the perplexities and mysteries of quantum thought. The task of developing a new and different quantum theory is a daunting one. But successful work is taking place. Bohm and Hiley, for example, have successfully developed a theory based on events that accounts for all the known phenomena mathematically without the paradoxical character of standard quantum theory. It has not gained much attention because it does not make predictions that had not already been made by those following standard models. Given the restricted understanding of science introduced in the twentieth century, the importance of this new theory is more philosophical, or even theological, than scientific. But since most philosophers and theologians have cut themselves off from science, few outside the process group pay much attention. Nevertheless, the possibility of a coherent quantum theory based on process thought is, in principle, important for the project of recovering a comprehensive vision in which a biblical understanding of God finds an important role. That is a project to which process theologians continue to give sustained support.

 

Marx and Whitehead

1. My Point of View

As I compare Marx and Whitehead, I think it important to let you know from what point of view I do so. I am sure that point of view is very different from that of one who has lived through recent decades in China. It is also very different from one who has studied the thought of Marx and subsequent Marxists in a scholarly way. I have studied Whitehead in that way, but I am no student of Marx or of Marxism generally. Of course, I have encountered Marxist ideas for many years, and I have read a little here and there. Moreover, like most thoughtful people, I have been influenced by him both directly and indirectly.

I am an American Christian theologian, and like most Christian theologians, I belong to the middle class. Like Marx, I am deeply influenced by the Hebrew prophets and their concern for justice for the oppressed. Marx and his followers have made me realize that my middle class perspective is inadequate to the appreciation of the prophetic tradition, which, like Marxism, views society from the point of view of the oppressed. I have gradually learned to take this perspective to a greater degree, although I remain middle class, and I believe that a middle class perspective informed by the prophetic tradition also has its contribution to make.

I am greatly influenced by the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead, although my concern for the oppressed does not come from him. In general, this is a concern much more of process theologians, that is, of Christians influenced by Whitehead, than of the followers of Whitehead in other fields, such as philosophy, who may not be shaped by the biblical tradition. Whitehead's thought does not discourage this concern, and, in principle, it encourages it. But there is little thematic development of this in Whitehead. In this regard I share more with Marx, because of our common participation in the heritage of the Hebrew prophets.

In other respects, however, I am far more influenced by Whitehead. Marx shared with the prophets the expectation of a day when justice would reign. I hope for the reduction of oppression in various ways, and I work for that, but I do not anticipate any final resolution. In that respect, I am closer to Whitehead. Also, Marx shared with the prophets a sharp focus on economic issues. I see oppression in multiple forms, and in this respect, also, I find more help in Whitehead. Nevertheless, I am today inclined to give primary attention to the economy, and in that respect I am closer to Marx.

As a theologian, I view history more in terms of the role of theology and the church in society than would a secular observer. What we American Protestants call the Social Gospel, which flourished from around 1890 to 1950, had reemphasized the prophetic tradition, partly under the influence of Marx. I am largely a child of the Social Gospel movement. However, I have come to realize that this movement viewed the social order largely from a middle class perspective, making little use of real class analysis. It appealed more to the charity and sense of justice of the Christian middle class than to organized efforts on the part of labor and the poor.

The Social Gospel contributed to Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal, which preserved capitalism by giving some support to labor and relief and security to the poor. It opened the door to the middle class for that segment of labor that was organized, thereby insuring that American labor unions would not employ Marxist analysis. As a result, American labor was strongly supportive of Western capitalism against Soviet Marxism throughout the Cold War.

This success in bringing organized labor into the middle class made Marxist class analysis unconvincing to many. Idealists, both Christian and secular, focused on injustices toward other groups rather than toward labor. Especially the exclusion of Blacks from labor unions as well as from other opportunities in society suggested that race was a more critical problem in the United States than class. Later, idealistic Americans turned their attention to the oppression of women. Today, much of the concern for the oppressed focuses on our treatment of homosexuals. Since Marx, or at least dominant expressions of Marxism, gave little attention to these other forms of oppression, or regarded them as by-products of class warfare, Americans who opposed all forms of oppression looked elsewhere for guidance. They were more concerned with cultural and political analyses than with those of class.

Class analysis has been not only been ignored but also condemned in the United States, both by the general public and even by many intellectuals. Even the word "socialism" has been used in a harshly pejorative way. However, many thoughtful people have not been entirely misled. Class structures are real, and we Americans are deeply affected in our perception of events by our place in those class structures. Middle-class Christian charity and concern for justice do not substitute for power in the hands of the poor.

The true locus of power in American society became clear during the War on Poverty. This "War" had widespread support as long as it consisted in governmental generosity to the poor. But it also included elements, rather minor, designed to organize the poor to express their own interests and act for them. When these began to show some signs of success, they were suppressed, and the "War" was ended.

The locus of control in the United States also became clearer when the Cold War ended. As long as that War was in progress, it was important to the capitalist system to have the support of organized labor and to give enough aid to the poor to prevent appreciation for Marxism from arising among them. The measures taken were successful in accomplishing this. However, when the Cold War ended, the capitalist elite was no longer much concerned about these matters. Through its great influence in government, it enacted policies that drastically weakened organized labor and undercut the "welfare" state. The middle class is now growing smaller and a real proletariat is coming into being.

Organized labor is still largely middle class, consisting more of teachers and government employees than of industrial workers. However, labor is now organizing farm workers and janitors, who are truly part of the proletariat. Eventually, they may recognize the relevance of class analysis to their plight. Overall, as oppression of people because of race, gender, and sexual orientation declines, class reappears as the fundamental basis of oppression.

Furthermore, the policies being pressed on other countries through structural adjustment intensify class structure around the world. The United States supports democracy, but only as long as the people elected to office reflect bourgeois values. When elected leaders genuinely represent the common people, as earlier in Chile and Nicaragua, and recently in Haiti, the United States arranges for their overthrow. It is trying to accomplish this also in Venezuela, thus far unsuccessfully.

Meanwhile the global economy, pushed by global capitalism, with its political center in Washington, D.C., is undercutting the remarkable achievements of Europe and Japan in developing mixed economies that virtually abolished poverty. Global competition is forcing reductions in governmental generosity to workers, to the unemployed, and to others who cannot participate actively in the economy. These countries had gone much further in the direction of a welfare state, paid for by the capitalist economy than had the United States. Their policies are still very generous by American standards. But they are all being pressed to "reform," and today, to reform always means to adopt policies less costly to the local capitalists and less favorable to labor and the poor.

My main point is that now that Marxism has ceased to be a threat in terms of political and military power, its analysis is becoming more and more relevant. Those who now make the decisions feel free to make them in terms of their own short-term economic interests, without fear of political and military consequences. These policies are resisted now chiefly in Islamic countries on the basis of principles that have little appeal to those in Western countries who suffer from harsher treatment at home.

For Christian theologians, the importance of class analysis has been kept alive through the work of Latin American liberation theologians. They have not been Communists or strict Marxists, but they have acknowledged their great debt to Marx. They have renewed the theological themes of the Social Gospel on which I was myself nourished, but they have done so much more from the perspective of the poor. In this way they have understood the real locus of power more clearly and been more open to radical resistance.

Their work is partly responsible for the fact that there is more real resistance to capitalist domination in Latin America than elsewhere. Their greatest influence over the decades has been in Brazil, and Brazil has now elected as president a man of the people, who understands the structure of capitalist oppression. He knows that he can survive as president only as he takes a very moderate course. In the end, he may have no choice but to sell out to global capitalism. But at present he is still able to lead Latin American resistance to the extension of this capitalism, especially through the Washington proposal of the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas. Popular resistance in Argentina, Bolivia, and Ecuador is also an important factor in the Latin American scene.

2. The Limitations of Marx and Whiteheadian Contributions

This analysis of our global situation was more influenced by Marx than by Whitehead. Nevertheless, it indicated places where I find Marx's analysis inadequate. Chiefly this is with regard to cultural issues. In the United States we have been dealing with forms of oppression that are not based on economic class although they have economic consequences. Blacks were oppressed by all classes, probably most of all by poor whites. Women were oppressed by all classes, but again, probably most of all by poor men. Homosexuals were oppressed by all classes, but with them also, the situation was often worst among the poor. One might argue that this was all due to capitalism, but oppression of people because of race, gender, and sexual orientation raises questions that are not well treated by class analysis.

The same is true of nationalism. Before World War I, many Marxists thought that the bond between the proletariat in France and in Germany was stronger than nationalist feelings. This proved to be wrong. French workers were Frenchmen first, and only secondarily, workers. German workers were Germans first, and only secondarily, workers. Marxist analysis does not go far to explain this cultural reality.

Standard Marxist analysis erred by locating individuals in only one context. From Whitehead's point of view, every momentary event or experience and, by extension, every human being, is a member of many different societies. One may be a worker, a Frenchman, a male chauvinist, a homophobe, a Jew, a member of a soccer team, and many other things. Each of these characteristics establishes some kind of identity and usually some kind of loyalty to those who share it. Sometimes, for some purposes, the identity as worker may predominate. This is most likely to occur if workers are well organized and have cultivated personal loyalty to the class. For other purposes identities formed in relation to other societies predominate. During recent centuries national identity has dominated in the West. Before that, religious identity was primary. Perhaps the world is now moving into a condition in which class identity will become primary, but that has not yet occurred for most people. Approaching people with this recognition of their participation in many overlapping but distinct societies leads to greater openness to the historical facts and, therefore, greater ability to identify the multiple loci of oppression at different times and places.

This is another way of saying that mainstream Marxist thought and practice paid too little attention to cultural matters. National feeling is a cultural matter. So are the attitudes of men toward women and of one ethnic or religious group toward others. Even the extent to which workers identify with workers as a whole, with workers in their own trade, or with the companies for which they work is a cultural matter. We need a conceptuality that shows how deeply human beings are shaped by culture and how much they change as their cultures change. Whitehead is more helpful than Marx in this regard.

Standard Marxist analysis erred in a second, related, way. It tended to treat persons more as embodiments of a class than as distinct individuals. The quest for justice was directed more to justice for the proletariat class than for justice to individual persons. The result was that Marxist societies were often oppressive of individuals. Of course, many of the individuals who were oppressed were bourgeois, and a Marxist can accept that as inevitable. Bourgeois individualism has to be overcome in order to establish the rule of the proletariat. But individual members of the proletariat were also sacrificed for the advance of the class.

One might argue that the necessary changes cannot be effected without such sacrifice. But unless there is great pain connected with this sacrifice on the part of those who order or condone it, the structures that are built on it will continue indefinitely to perpetuate such sacrifice. Personal freedom and security of person may be bourgeois values in one sense, but they are also human values. Marx certainly wanted all people to enjoy them. But his system of thought gave too little attention to personal individuality, and the political systems erected in his name were weak in this respect.

Too often the alternatives are presented as between authoritarian control in the name of the proletariat and bourgeois individualism. One is based on treating groups of people, especially classes, as quasi-individual actors. The other takes individuals in abstraction from their relations with others as the units of being and action. There is another possibility developed in some forms of communitarianism. Whitehead provides the conceptual underpinnings for the development of this possibility. In the tradition of Christian ethics this alternative model is often called person-in-community.

This model locates reality not in the collective but in the individual, and in this way sides with individualism. However, it views the individual in a very different way from the dominant thought forms of the Western Enlightenment. In the Enlightenment tradition, individuals have their fundamental existence in separation from one another. This is expressed vividly in the myths created by Enlightenment thinkers about politics and economics.

Hobbes and Locke both posited a state of nature in which individuals, or individual nuclear families, were all in competition with one another. No fellow feeling is acknowledged among them. What moves them to form a government is the miserable insecurity they all experience when they are constantly vulnerable to their neighbors. It is to overcome this insecurity of possessions, and of life itself, that they agree to give up some of their freedom of action in exchange for security.

I do not mean that the Hobbes and Locke were so naïve historically as to suppose that the world was ever like that. Nevertheless, the assumption of mutually unrelated individuals each pursuing self-interest at the expense of others tells us much about their understanding of human beings. I believe that not only is it historically erroneous but also fundamentally misleading with respect to the understanding of human behavior. The United States continues to suffer from this individualist myth.

Classical and neo-classical economic theory, in contrast with Marxist economics, is also based on this atomistic individualism. For economic theory it is the free market, rather than order imposed by a central authority, that resolves the problem. In the free market all who exchange goods and labor get what they want more in exchange for what they want less. Thus the more transactions occur in the market, the better off is the whole. Here, too, the only relations recognized as occurring among people are the external relations of exchange and contract. By external relations I mean relations that do not affect the nature or being of the people who are related.

This view of human beings gained some of its credibility from a physical science based on atomism. In this view, atoms are completely self-contained, and they are related to other atoms only spatio-temporally. All the complex entities in the world, including human bodies, can be analyzed into groupings of these individual atoms. This metaphysics leads to scientific reductionism and determinism. When evolution brought the whole of humanity into this mechanistic system, the world of values collapsed.

The set of problems associated with mechanistic atoms was a major part of what Whitehead set out to overcome. He did so by positing events as primary in relation to objects. Larger events can be broken down into unit events that are no longer subject to actual division. In this sense, he was, in the Greek sense, an atomist. That is, he believed that there are indivisible units of the actual world of which all the more complex entities are composed.

However, Whitehead's atoms, far from being related to one another only spatio-temporally, are largely constituted by their relations. His is a doctrine of the primacy of internal relations, relations that are constitutive of the entities they relate. This is just the type of relations that Enlightenment individualism systematically excluded..

In Whitehead's view, an individual human experience does not first exist and then enter into relations with others. Instead, it comes into being largely as a product of the societies to which it belongs. It is a synthesis of its relations with others. It is, accordingly, deeply informed by past personal experiences. It is deeply informed by events in the brain. It is deeply informed by the human community in which it takes place. And it is informed by larger societies as well. An individual is the society, or better, the complex of societies, in a particular locus.

Formulated in this way, Whitehead seems to give priority to the community over the individual. No individual comes into being except as a new embodiment of the world it enters. This is true of a quantum event and of a human experience. Most of what characterizes either one is determined by its locus, spatio-temporal in both cases and, in the case of the human experience, also cultural.

However, Whitehead was convinced that this is not the whole picture. Every unit event, every moment of human experience, is something more than simply the determined outcome of its world. There is more than one way in which it can synthesize its past and achieve its own definiteness in that particular location and context. Among these alternative possibilities, each event, each experience, makes its own decision.

Outside the animal sphere, these decisions may seem to make little difference. The situation seems overall to be quite static. Nevertheless, over large spans of time even cosmic patterns may be affected by these decisions. However that may be, among animals, and especially among human beings, the decisions of individuals make a great deal of difference. Sometimes a single, momentary decision may be very important. In a threatened traffic accident, for example, one's momentary decision about swerving and braking may determine whether one survives or is killed.

However, in general, Whitehead directs us to think of numerous small decisions extending over a considerable period of time. These can lead to significantly novel developments in personal life and even in the wider culture. A decision to peer through a telescope at a particular part of the night sky may results in an astronomical discovery. In one sense, that decision may be made in a moment. But normally, the possibility of that decision grows out of myriads of antecedent decisions, each of which by itself added very little interesting novelty to the situation in which it occurs. Most important changes result from the cumulation of numerous small, and apparently trivial, changes.

The point for a Whiteheadian is that, while individual decisions may contribute very little to what happens moment by moment, the fact that they occur and that their results accumulate means that decision plays a large role in human life and in cultural formation. Cultures are not inevitable products of purely natural causes. They are the products also of beliefs and practices that could have been different from what they are and are now subject to being developed in diverse directions. Decisions have been and are important.

The locus of these decisions is in the individual human experience. A healthy culture will encourage such decisions and constitute a context in which they can play a larger role. An oppressive society will discourage such decision seeking to turn individuals into products of the society without significant individuality.

Whitehead thus provides an understanding of the individual and the society that opposes the view that individuals ever were, or could be, or should be, outside of society. Society is not a voluntary construction by individuals for their selfish gain as the Enlightenment thinkers would have us believe. People have always grown up in community and assimilated the values of the community. Their relations to other members of the community have largely constituted them as the persons they have been. People identify themselves as members of such communities and find meaning in these relationships. Governance is part of all such communities, and the governments that now exist have evolved out of other forms of government. Governments that ignore the functioning communities in which their people live will fail or survive only through tyranny. Actual economic life also reflects the importance of community to each individual's existence.

But a community is healthy only when it cherishes each individual member, not only as an embodiment of that community, but also for her or his individual qualities and capacity to be creative. Communities can encourage such individual creativity only when obtaining the necessities of economic survival does not dominate the lives of people. Hence, the economic order as a whole and the just distribution of economic goods and political power are of immense importance. Culture is not a mere superstructure, but no healthy culture can survive unless basic human needs are met with some surplus of energy remaining to the people. There is nothing in a Whiteheadian analysis to dispute the fundamental importance of the economy.

The appreciation of community changes our basic sense of how to improve the human condition. What is needed is not simply an increase of total wealth or an improvement of the relative condition of the proletariat. What is needed is healthy community. Healthy community must meet the economic needs of its members, but its health consists more in the quality of human relationships than in the amount of goods and services consumed. After the necessities for survival are met, healthy relationships contribute much more to human happiness than does the increase of consumption of goods and services.

Whereas in the capitalist model, people are fundamentally encouraged to compete, community depends on cooperation. To gain at the expense of others in a community is to gain very little. The unhappiness of the others detracts from one's happiness. To improve the economic condition of the community as a whole is the economic goal; and this serves the larger goal of improving the quality of human relations and thus of human life, while stimulating the personal freedom of all the members of the community.

The difference can be demonstrated quite clearly in terms of two models of development. Community development is practiced by many nongovernmental organizations including church groups, but it is overshadowed by the top-down development programs of the World Bank and by transnational corporate investments. It remains, however, a practical possibility in many placed.

The most famous proponent of community development was Mahatma Gandhi, and it is sometimes call the Gandhian model. If Gandhi had lived, it might have had a real chance to improve the quality of life in thousands of Indian villages. Gandhi's symbol was the sewing machine. He thought that during parts of the year the women had time for productive work, which was not available to them. If they were provided with simple sewing machines, they could produce clothing for their families and also for sale. If this increased the family income by twenty per cent, the quality of life of very poor peasants would be significantly improved.

Of course, the sewing machine is simply a symbol. In some villages the great need is for a pump that will provide water locally and save people from long trips to a distant source. For others, it is solar cookers that will reduce their need for hard-to-find firewood. For still others, it may be a steel plough that will reduce the labor of preparing the fields. For still others it may be baby chicks or rabbits that can grow, reproduce and contribute significantly to people's diet and income. For still others it may be learning to control family size.

Meeting one such need does not complete community development. It provides a basis for taking the next step. There is not a single magic bullet for community, but a process of development of the village as a whole along the lines desired by the villagers. It is important that the villagers e subjects of development, not mere objects. "Development" that makes them radically dependent on outside aid is not true development. True development empowers them to meet their own needs more efficiently. In the process of such development, the hope is that the quality of human relationships also improves.

So far as I can tell both Marxism and capitalism have worked against community development. Their typical programs of development are quite different from this and lead to the systematic destruction of traditional communities and even of new ones that emerge to replace them. This is because the goal is simply increased production. Both Marxists and capitalists believe that this is achieved best by rapid industrialization. Rapid industrialization, in turn, requires economies of scale.

Both have supported supplanting small farms by large ones, in one case communal, in the other agribusiness. Some of the inhabitants of villages are employed on these large holdings; others are expected to go to the cities to supply labor for factories. The village community is destroyed. Where no value is placed on human community, this is not considered a loss. But viewed through Whiteheadian eyes, the human loss is incalculable. Even if total production grows more rapidly when these methods are employed than when there are incremental improvements in the agriculture of existing villages – which is doubtful – much more is lost than gained when valued in a holistic Whiteheadian way.

3. Marx and Whitehead on Nature

There is one other very important element to be introduced in this sketchy analysis of our situation. This is the natural environment. Around the world, there are tens of millions of people who care deeply about the destruction of ecosystems, the loss of forest cover, the expansion of deserts, the pollution of land, water, and air, the changing of weather patterns, and the exhaustion of crucial resources such as fresh water and soil. They love the Earth and are unwilling to support policies geared to short-term economic gains for the rich at the expense of the future of all humanity. Although many are middle class, they share the concerns of the proletariat with respect to global capitalism. Increasingly, the poor, especially those who live closest to nature, join with the concerned middle class. The poor are often the ones most willing to put their lives on the line to defend parts of the natural world. This movement is sufficiently powerful, that the capitalist elite must give it lip service, even though the major policies they implement continue to be highly destructive.

Both Marx and Whitehead died before the ecological crisis had become a major matter of concern. Both had some awareness and concern about the destruction of the natural environment. Neither highlighted this as a major practical issue.

How Marxists have dealt with this is a question about which you are better informed than I. In China, I believe that the Marxist government instituted huge programs of reforestations. When I was in Nanjing some years ago I was shown forested hillsides that I was told had once been bare. It was said that this reforestation had lowered average summer temperatures in and around the city. I was impressed. Clearly it is possible to find in the Marxist tradition reasons for improving the human environment.

Likewise in capitalist societies there have been some positive actions. In the United States we have long preserved scenic areas as national parks and tried to control exploitation of resources in national forests. We have taken action to improve the quality of water and air and to slow down the loss of species diversity.

Nevertheless, it is my impression that in both societies, concern for economic growth typically trumps concern for a healthy natural environment. Whether the basic ideology is Marxist or Neoliberal, growth plays the role of god as that which is served by government, education, and business. It is my judgment that, as long as this is the case, the environment will continue to deteriorate even if some resources are dedicated to its preservation.

This worsening of the environmental situation and acceleration of the movement toward ultimate collapse is not inevitable. It is a function of culture, both of Marxist culture and of capitalist culture. Both place economic growth ahead of a healthy natural environment, treating the latter as a secondary matter and even as one means among others to the growth of the economy. There is some difference between the two economic systems in that the Marxist can have a major concern for the equitable distribution of what is produced, whereas pure capitalism does not. But neither includes in its basic categories or structure any view of the natural world except as a source of resources for economic production. In my opinion, it is only those who care for the natural world for its own sake and for the sake of future human inhabitants who can guide us toward patterns of action that will be truly sustainable.

We cannot derive from Whitehead all the teachings we need. However, in three respects his view is helpful to counteract the dominant attitudes that now shape global behavior. First, whereas both Marxist and Capitalist theories are thoroughly anthropocentric, Whitehead's theory is not. That is, for Marxism and capitalism alike, value is located in human beings and what serves them. For Whitehead, on the contrary, value is located in everything. There were values in the world before human beings came into being, and there will be values in the world even if humanity disappears. True, much will be lost. As far we know, the greatest values are now to be found in human experiences. But the fact that all events have value means that human beings should weigh these values along with their own in planning their actions.

Second, capitalist theory is radically dualistic. Human beings and the remainder of things are treated as belonging to radically different orders of being. The anthropocentrism with respect to value is based on a metaphysical dualism. There is humanity and there is nature. To view nature as having any intrinsic significance is supposed to express the pathetic fallacy.

I am less clear about Marxism in this respect. Its self-definition as a form of materialism seems to reject the Cartesian dualism of mind and matter. Nevertheless, some analogous dualism seems to be functioning here. Dialectical materialism is the rejection of dialectical idealism, focusing sharply on the material conditions of human existence rather than the history of thought. I do not find in it a metaphysical challenge to Cartesian dualism. I will be glad to be corrected on this.

Whitehead's philosophy is dedicated to showing that there is only one order of being. Every event has both a physical and a mental pole. In simple entities, the physical predominates. In human experience, the mental plays a large role. But the mental plays a role everywhere, and human experience is also profoundly physical. When we recognize in this way our kinship with all things, our attitudes toward the others must change. We cannot treat our kinfolk the way human beings are accustomed to treat other species of animals, plants, and even the inanimate world.

Third, as I already noted in the discussion of human community, capitalism is based on a notion that individuals precede their relations to others – that these relations are external. Human society is seen as a product of human action. Once individual needs for security are met, society has no further function. There is really no such thing as community. If our relations with other human beings are thus trivialized, we can hardly expect any attention to our relations to the rest of the world. It is viewed as radically external to us.

Again I confess my limited grasp of Marxism. However, it is my impression that for Marx also the natural world is quite external to human beings. Marxists have been willing to wipe out human communities for the sake of communes, which they regarded as more efficient units of production. The loss of traditional human relationships has not been viewed as important. If kinship relations with other human beings have not been important to Marxist theory and practice, then it is unlikely that there is much emphasis on human kinship to other animals and to the natural environment generally.

Whitehead's understanding of internal relations makes a difference here too. We are constituted by our relations. Very important among these relations are those to our own bodies. These are part of the natural world. Through our bodies and even more directly we are related to other parts of nature. Who we are, what we are, is affected not only by our human communities but also by the broader natural environment.

Relations to other living things are important, especially to children. The landscapes of the places we call home shape our sense of reality and of belonging. Hence the deterioration of our natural surroundings not only reduces the resources for economic life, it directly impoverishes our experiences.

I am simply making the same point about our relations to the natural world that I made earlier about our relations to the human world. We are parts of natural communities, or if we prefer, eco-systems. Our personal health and well being are bound up with the health and well being of these communities or ecosystems. If we view economic development in terms of its contribution to the health and well being of human communities and natural ecosystems, we will not seek increased production as such as the good in itself. We will instead decide, community by community, whether economic growth is needed, and where it is, what form it can take that will strengthen the community as a whole and benefit the natural environment as well.

The answers will not be simple, and efforts along these lines will not always succeed. But their failures will not be nearly as harmful as have been the numerous failures of top-down development programs. And there will be more successes, however modest. In general, there will be some improvement of the economic condition of the people, and there will be little disruption of their communal life and relation to their environments. Sometimes the gains will be dramatic.

Today, top-down development has gone so far that one may think that the proposal of another form is idle. Certainly, much of value in human and ecological terms is already, irretrievably, lost. But if we continue along these lines, we are headed for catastrophes of unimaginable horror. Difficult as it may be to change, it is important to make proposals and try experiments. I do, deeply, believe, that Whitehead's philosophy can suggest far better directions for development than those that have dominated global efforts thus far.

Has Europe Become Theologically Barren?

The nature of theology has changed dramatically from time to time during the course of Christian history. There have been periods of greatness followed by others when little happened of long-term interest. The high Middle Ages was one period of greatness. The task of theology then was to provide an overarching context in which the whole of human thought and life could find a home. Catholic theology to this day is deeply informed by the achievements of that epoch. In my opinion this is still the most important goal for theology.

The Reformation was another great period of theological work. For the Reformers the task was to recover what they believed to be the Biblical message and develop its implications for the whole life and thought of the church. They still thought that the message they proclaimed was relevant to all areas of life, but they were less concerned to provide a context for the whole of intellectual activity.

The nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were a third great period. By the end of the eighteenth century, the twin challenges of the natural sciences, along with their philosophical interpreters, and of scientific historical study profoundly challenged the credibility of received forms of Christian faith. The primary response was from the Protestant German-language world. It began with Kant, and even in its Hegelian forms, it was throughout deeply affected by Kant's critical philosophy.

Its task was not to provide an overarching context, since it no longer located theology as the queen of the sciences. Instead, it sought to identify and justify a continuing role for Christian faith in an intellectual context that had become inhospitable. In that sense it was apologetic. Its achievements were truly remarkable. Although theology was no longer queen of the sciences, it held its head high in the German universities and had the respect of the culture, as well as the church. It participated in developing a style of humanistic scholarship that insured that the work of one generation built upon that of its predecessors in a highly responsible way. At the same time, each new generation produced great new systems that responded to the intellectual and cultural problems posed to faith.

This theological program was difficult for anyone not schooled in continental European universities to enter. Americans who recognized the brilliance of this theology and wanted to share in it were always late and derivative. The English largely went their own way, but could not compare in depth of scholarship or originality of thought.

Catholics both on the continent and in Great Britain developed their own creative systems. Neo-Thomism, especially in its French version was a serious contender in the theological world. Other Thomists decided to adopt the Kantian framework, thus moving closer to the dominant, Protestant tradition.

Despite its brilliance, the apologetic tradition began to run dry early in the twentieth century. Its justification of basic Christian claims became more difficult. The critics became more profound. I think here, especially, of Nietzsche. When we read the neo-Kantians against the background of Nietzsche's critique, they seem somewhat superficial. As knowledge of other religious traditions became more important, the easy affirmation of Christian superiority was harder to maintain. I think here, especially, of Ernst Troeltsch, and his giving up of the claim to the absoluteness of Christianity.

My own judgment is that the Kantian critique, which had given such a powerful impulse to Christian intellectual life in the nineteenth century, ceased to be an asset to the Christian cause by the end of the century. It could work well when basic Christian values were largely unquestioned. But against still more fundamental attacks it was weak. Its discouragement of speculative thought curtailed the range of its relevance. It cut theology off from interaction with the changing worldview growing out of the natural sciences. It failed to criticize this worldview, only relativizing it as a human creation. Meanwhile, human creation or not, the so-called scientific worldview gained practical dominance over the Kantian one in the culture as a whole and among Christians as well.

This Protestant Kantian apologetic tradition failed to respond to the increasing fragmentation of the academic disciplines. More and more, therefore, theology became only one technical discipline among others. Paying attention to it was simply one elective among many. Fewer and fewer people chose this option.

For a few decades, there was a brilliant response to this decline of Protestant theology. It was based on a recurrence to the Reformation appeal to sola scriptura. If apologetics no longer worked effectively, theologians could try dogmatics. If one could not justify Christian faith in terms of current thought and knowledge, then appeal to revelation! This strategy worked better than one might have expected. The discovery of Soren Kierkegaard gave support to this new direction.

Needless to say, there was great variety among Neo-Reformation theologians. Many found the bold appeal to revelation in Karl Barth and Emil Brunner excessive. Rudolph Bultmann offered a much more moderate response to the situation. There remained the transcendent act of God in the rise of faith, but this was affirmed in the context of acceptance of the modern worldview and the use of modern historiographical methods.

A contemporary of the Neo-Reformation theologians who shared some of their critique of the earlier liberalism was Paul Tillich. Unlike the others, Tillich continued the apologetic tradition, drawing on Heidegger as a way of circumventing the limits of the earlier tradition. Partly because Tillich was forced to leave Europe before his major work was written, his influence their was limited. But in the United States he represented a major theological option.

To some extent the success of the Neo-Reformation movement depended on the Kantian background. Kant had shown the limits of reason in order to make room for faith. This limitation of reason was presupposed in the appeal to revelation. Furthermore, in contrast to the more conservative heirs of the Reformation, the Neo-Reformation theologians accepted the status of theology as one academic discipline among others. They did not seek to make theology the queen of the sciences. They emphatically gave full freedom to all other disciplines to pursue their studies without interference. They only claimed an equal right to pursue the theological vocation.

But in another respect the Neo-Reformation theology was a break from the whole Kantian tradition. That tradition was anthropocentric in the extreme. In an important, even fundamental sense, it declared the human mind to be the creator of the world. There was little left for God to do. It was a very short step to see the human mind as the creator of God as well. Against this tendency the Neo-Reformation theologians emphatically declared the primacy of the radically transcendent God. God once again became God in an unequivocal way. This was part of the power of the message.

This mixture of theological realism and Kantian dualism was also an inherent weakness of this movement. Believers were asked to enter a biblical world that was profoundly different from the modern one. Yet they were expected to live also in the modern world and to take seriously the academic disciplines that instructed them about its nature. The biblical world was presented in a way that did not flatly contradict the results of the many disciplines, but, existentially, its meaning was in profound tension with theirs. Although many believers found it exhilarating to adopt this stance, as its novelty wore off, the problems rose to the surface. Most difficult was to affirm the actuality of the transcendent God without any evidence other than God's revelation, interpreted as radically discontinuous from all else in history.

In Europe in the sixties, two young theologians, Wolfhart Pannenberg and Juergen Moltmann rejected the picture of a vertical transcendence. Instead of abandoning God-talk, however, they renewed it by locating God in the eschatological future. Beyond this central point of agreement, they differed profoundly. Moltmann continued the tradition of sola scriptura, pointing out the importance of futurity in the Bible. Pannenberg shared this understanding of the Bible, but he grounded his theological affirmations also in philosophy, historiography, and the social sciences.

The radical theocentrism of the Neo-Reformation thinkers faded in both. In Pannenberg the ontological claims about God continue in this new form, but the characteristics of the God thus affirmed were quite different from what had been asserted by the Neo-Reformation theologians. In Moltmann, the emphasis is on the Christian symbol system and how it shapes Christian existence in the present. Pannenberg engaged in extended polemics against the limits of reason to which so much of Protestant theology had appealed, opening the door to renewal of the bolder claims of Christian theology to affirm universal truth and to encompassing the sciences. Moltmann directed attention to how Christians engage the world ethically and socially.

The "theology of hope", with which both of these theologians were identified, was the last Protestant movement in continental Europe to attract great interest and a large following in the United States. In Germany itself, so far as I can tell, neither Pannenberg nor Moltmann has been widely followed. The Protestant theological scene globally became leaderless and fragmented.

Some theologians have returned to the nineteenth century for inspiration, with Hegel enjoying a considerable revival. But despite impressive scholarship, the useful theological yield has been modest. Much of their work is of interest only to members of the theological guild. Others have tried to continue the Neo-Reformation tradition often without the daring affirmations of God's ontological reality that gave power to the first generation. Instead they present Christianity as one symbol system among others within which the church calls us to live and think

I will attempt to add some comments about Catholic theology during this period, realizing that I speak very much as an outsider. I have mentioned transcendental and Neo-Thomism. Outside of Catholic circles, the former did not attract much attention. Neo-Thomism, especially the work of Jacques Maritain and Etienne Gilson, however, had an important role in the wider public, representing an alternative to the post-Kantian theological tradition and presenting itself as a plausible alternative to modern philosophy generally. When I was a student at the Divinity School of the University of Chicago in the years after World War II, along with Tillich, Neo-Reformation theology and Neo-Thomism appeared to be the major European options.

About the same time that Neo-Reformation theology began to unravel, Vatican II transformed the theological situation of Catholics. In large numbers they moved into the discussions going on among Protestants. They brought new zest and energy into those discussions, breathing new life into them. Catholic theologians such as Karl Rahner became respected voices in the broader conversation. J.B. Metz brought vigor and insight into the political theology that developed out of Moltmann's theology of hope. But even this new vitality could not really restore to health either the apologetic tradition of the nineteenth century or the dogmatic one of the twentieth. For the most part, now, although they continue to provide massive scholarship equally important to the Protestant world, Catholic theologians have withdrawn from the wider discussion to renew the distinctive Catholic tradition

Although I have been asked to speak of the European tradition, I cannot evaluate its power without referring to its impact on the American scene and to independent movements there. Throughout the nineteenth century there were American theological movements that were partly dependent on continental European ones and partly independent. They could not compete with the German apologetic tradition in depth of thought or rigor of historical scholarship. They were less professional and more connected to the distinctive issues that arose in the American churches. The most important of these toward the end of the century were those posed by evolutionary theory on the one side and the results of industrialization on the other. These raised the question of the validity of Marxist analysis. Also the importation of the "higher criticism" of the Bible was an important source of controversy in the churches.

The importance of the controversy engendered by evolutionary theory indicates that Kant influenced the intellectual climate of the United States far less than that of Europe. Christianity was understood as a worldview, or at least as depending on one. This worldview included the idea of divine creation and of human freedom. The new evolutionary theory seemed to reject both and, of course, to conflict with the biblical account.

We call the response to this complex challenge to nineteenth-century American Protestant Christianity the "social gospel." It embraced an evolutionary worldview, although it reinterpreted evolution as the way God created. It treated the higher criticism of the Bible as leading to a view of the development of spiritual insight culminating in Jesus. It presented Jesus' message as centering in his proclamation of the Kingdom of God, which it understood as a world of peace and justice. It undertook to reorient the energies generated by faith in God toward the transformation of society. And it sponsored a missionary movement to carry this vision of social salvation around the world.

To identify the work of the social gospel leaders as "theology" is hardly justified if we take the German apologetic tradition as defining what "theology" is. Measured by European standards, it was, at best, "lay" theology. Nevertheless, it was a way of understanding the meaning of faith in the contemporary scene that deeply informed the old-line churches and captured the hearts of millions of believers. Although scholars and professional theologians might be condescending toward it, and look to Germany for intellectual guidance, for the American Christian community as a whole, the "theology" imported by scholars was of little more than academic interest.

This changed with the coming of Neo-Reformation theology. This was understood as engaging the church where it lived. Even though it was appropriated very selectively, it reinforced the American sense that we should look to the continent of Europe for theological understanding. It thereby had the effect of rendering the social gospel, as well as other more indigenous American forms of theology, outdated and largely ineffective.

Nevertheless, one strand of the older American theology continued. At the University of Chicago Divinity School, thinkers who participated in the social gospel tradition developed the socio-historical understanding of Christianity and applied this perspective to Biblical, historical, and systematic study. These scholars acknowledged some influence of the German tradition appreciating especially the work of Troeltsch. Nevertheless, taken as a whole, this was a distinctively American tradition. The Chicago school went through a series of permutations and continues today as "process theology", the tradition in which I stand.

Given this background of distinctive American concerns, the European developments that really interested the American public were most were often peripheral to European theology. An important example was Teilhard de Chardin. He provided reinforcement to that aspect of the social gospel synthesis that incorporated a modified evolutionary theory into theology. The Phenomenon of Man sold millions of copies in the United States.

In the United States, Neo-Reformation theology began to unravel in the nineteen-sixties independently of parallel developments in Germany. The unraveling was dramatically expressed in the death-of-God theology. This declared that in all integrity we must live in the modern world. We cannot truly believe in the transcendent God known only in supernatural revelation. At the same time, Barth's polemic against the various ways in which apologetic theology had justified God-language was accepted. Honesty calls us, therefore, to declare a thoroughgoing atheism and see what faith can mean in that context. In some instances, this atheism was quite straightforward. In others, as with Thomas Altizer, it was more the self-emptying of transcendence into immanence, albeit a nihilistic immanence.

The theology of hope gained wide attention in the United States as an alternative to the death of God. But the unraveling of Neo-Reformation theology was also the untying of the strings that bound Americans to European hegemony. Attention was grasped by new voices arising in the new world. The three most important were Black theology and feminist theology, arising in the United States itself, and Latin American liberation theology.

At this point the distinction between Catholic and Protestant ceased to mean much. Black theology was primarily Protestant and Latin American theology was primarily Catholic. But these differences were unimportant for the discussion. The strongest early voices of feminist theology, such as Mary Daly and Rosemary Ruether, were mainly Catholic, but Protestant women were fully engaged. Of course, one could draw connections between these new theologies and those of Europe; and the Latin Americans, in particular, were at pains to do so. Those grasped by the new themes appreciated the support of Moltmann. Those who closed ranks against them sometimes appealed to Pannenberg. But most of the discussion largely ignored contemporary developments in European theology. .

These liberation theologies were highly critical of the dominant European theological tradition. The mood of criticism extended much further. The contrast between the Christian claim to universality and the actual European hegemony led to interest in listening to theological voices from all over the world. Awareness of the global situation of religious pluralism, reflected also within the United States itself, led to strong reaction against traditional exclusivist claims. Especially the terrible history of Christian persecution of Jews, culminating in the Holocaust, forced recognition of the need to change Christian theology quite drastically. Traditional teaching about sexuality, and in particular about homosexuality, was recognized as repressive and as having led to horrible treatment of homosexuals. The issue of full acceptance of homosexuals tore the old-line Protestant churches in North America apart.

Equally important was the realization in the late nineteen-sixties that the dominant Protestant theology had ignored the natural world and human responsibility for its degradation. In some respects it did worse than ignore, actually celebrating human exploitation of nature with no sense of limits. Fortunately, this realization of the need to repent, emerged all over the world, but Christians did not look to Europe for leadership in response. The Kantian base of European theology made it difficult to give full place to the autonomous reality and importance of the natural world.

The extreme dualism that was responsible for the worst in Protestant theology with respect to nature was shaped by Kant. Although transcendental Thomism had accepted the anthropocentrism of Kant and reinterpreted theology in those terms, Catholic theology as a whole was not as guilty as Protestant. Nevertheless, European Catholics did not give conspicuous leadership in a creative response. Even Teilhard de Chardin misdirected his followers in this regard.

Closely related to this is the general silence of the churches in response to the hegemony of the economic order over all other social, political, and even religious orders. The ecological crisis is accompanied by a social crisis brought about by economic globalization as a new form of colonialism. Our churches are as complicit in this as in the earlier form practiced in the nineteenth century, and our theology is as silent. This is true of North Atlantic theology as a whole. It is only in Third World countries that effective voices are being raised. Fortunately, these are heard in the World Council of Churches.

The European Catholic theologian who retained the greatest visibility and influence in the United States was Hans Kueng. Initially he was admired for challenging the structure of authority in the Catholic Church. But he showed sensitivity to many of the other troubling issues, and gave truly impressive leadership in the area of religious pluralism.

The dominant mood was what we have come to call "deconstructionist". It became far clearer what progressive Christians do not believe than what they actually affirm. Theology that did not seem sensitive to the limitations and, indeed, evils of the dominant tradition was pursued in conservative circles, but it lost any claim to attention from others. French deconstructive philosophy resonated with this mood of tearing down, and today the deconstructionist thinkers are cited in theological circles more frequently than are European theologians.

The title I was assigned asks whether Europe has become theologically barren. Let me try to answer that more directly. In doing so, I need to emphasize that I speak as an American. There is a great deal that takes place in Europe of which I am quite unaware. I offer only impressions that I cannot substantiate.

I have identified two truly great periods of modern Protestant European theology: the apologetic tradition of the nineteenth century and the Neo-Reformation tradition of the twentieth. I believe that both are played out. The collapse of the latter renewed interest in the former, but this has not led to important leadership for the future.

Whereas European apologetic theology responded brilliantly to the intellectual challenges of the modern world, it is not so well positioned to respond to the challenges that now face us. These are sometimes collected under the heading of the postmodern world. Whether we like to use that term or not, we must recognize that many of the features that characterized the nineteenth century world to which apologetic theology responded are now ending. I will identify seven.

1. It is now widely recognized that Christendom is ending. The church is no longer widely established, and where establishment lingers, there is a sense of its being a relic of a bye-gone age.

2. The assumptions of the European Enlightenment no longer appear self-evident. Its ideas appear as culture-bound as do the ideas that it ridiculed and replaced. Its conviction that human reason could lead quite directly to universal values and truths is no longer convincing. Its individualism seems not only false but also profoundly dangerous.

3. Much of the prestige of the Enlightenment came from its close association with modern science. That science claimed objectivity and universality. It understood itself to provide an objectively true account of the world. Today that science has displayed its own limitations. The assumptions inherited from the Enlightenment epoch do not work. It is very confused as to whether it describes a real world at all.

4. Modern Europeans took for granted that the history of the world centers in that of Europe. Eurocentrism was hardly mentioned because of its self-evidence. European culture and society provided the norm for evaluating others. Today cultural pluralism is replacing this Eurocentrism. World history is now the history of many cultures.

5. Closely connected to cultural pluralism is religious pluralism. The superiority of Christianity cannot be taken for granted, and its long history of arrogance counts against any claim of superiority. Conversion from Christianity to other religious traditions is as common as conversion of others to Christianity. Christian apologetics and missionary theology has been succeeded by detached study of the history of religions and by dialogue among believers in various faiths. If we continue to claim something of special value and importance in our tradition, we must show it in open discussion of the alternatives.

6. The anthropocentrism that has characterized all of the "higher" religious traditions, but modern Christianity in the most extreme way, is now a threat to the future of the planet. Humanity needs spiritual guidance in re-experiencing the relation to other creatures in terms of kinship and shared destiny rather than dualism and domination. There are resources in Christianity as in other traditions, but they must be brought to the fore. A Christian theology that continues to operate in dualistic and anthropocentric ways is part of the problem and not part of the solution.

7. It is too much to say that we are coming to the end of patriarchy. Its hold on our society and others is too deep and pervasive for such a claim to be assured. Nevertheless, we have come to the end of the period in which patriarchy can be taken for granted as the proper way to organize society. We are now busy unveiling the effects of patriarchy in other deep-seated assumptions and social customs. The close connection between patriarchy and traditional theology and ecclesiastical practice is now apparent. Feminists are showing us what a non-patriarchal theology must be.

Alongside the analysis of what is ending must be a vivid recognition of the new form being taken on a global scale. This is that, not just of a market economy, but of a market society. This has not gone nearly as far in Europe as in the United States and in the poorer countries that have been structural adjusted by the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. But it is affecting Europe as well. It shows us what the global worship of wealth does, and it calls urgently for Christian response.

This global market society together with the domination of American political life by transnational corporations is now bringing vividly to the surface the latent global imperialism of the United States. The declaration of war against terrorism provides a context in which the world's only superpower can attack any enemy of the global dominance of corporations. Of course, the other wealthy nations and their corporations are complicit in this new American imperialism. A theology that ignores this new reality will not be adequate to our needs.

If theology of any sort is to have the energy and vitality today that European theology has had in its great periods in the past, it must respond to the new situation now as effectively as it responded to the challenges of the nineteenth century. It is the absence of leadership in this response that leads me to answer the question posed for me in the title I was assigned positively.

I suggest three reasons for the weakness of European theology in responding to the changed global situation. First, as the church grows weaker it seems to tighten its demands on its theologians. The daring freedom of so many Protestant theologians in the nineteenth century is not so visible today among either Catholics or Protestants. To be Christian theology at all, a statement must draw strongly on the wisdom of the tradition, but to be effective in our time, it must not be a defense of that tradition. Only as the traditional teachings of which use is made genuinely illumine the issues of our time can they be usefully employed.

Second, scholarly ruts are deep. The system of scholarship that made continental European theology the unquestioned world leader for nearly two centuries may now be as much as obstacle as an aid. It channels acceptable work too narrowly and makes it difficulty to take a point of departure quite outside of that which was appropriate in the earlier period. Those who dare to do this are not regarded as quite responsible to the academic discipline. They are not wissenschaftlich and, therefore, cannot be taken with full seriousness in the ongoing theological discussion. But to be effective in our time, theology cannot limit itself to working out the problems derived from the tradition. It must address the new realities with whatever methods are most effective.

Third, the influence of Immanuel Kant is no longer productive. There can be no doubt that his opening up of the creative work of Geist enabled theologians to respond to many of the problems of the nineteenth century. But today the separation of Geist from Natur has become more an obstacle than a help. Catholics are not as fully committed to Kant as our Protestants but even their work is informed by him and shares in the anthropocentrism that is inescapable when the first critique shapes the theological starting point.

It is not, however, as if the role Europe once played has been taken over elsewhere. Instead, there is a great lacuna. Some celebrate the fragmentary character of theology in our time. Others have given up hope of serious theological guidance and turn elsewhere. Many simply turn back to modes of thought that have been shown to be destructive. The church's need is great, and continental Europe, probably Europe alone, has the cultural and scholarly resources to respond adequately.

My hope is that the situation today is like the one that preceded Vatican II. From without, Catholic theology seemed largely barren, absorbed in questions that were remote from the dominant human concerns of the day. Then Vatican II brought to light the fact that a great deal had long been going on behind the scenes. It released powerful energies for the whole Christian community.

Perhaps there is a great deal already taking place in Europe that simply has not become globally visible. Perhaps it is just about to burst upon us to point the way for a healthy and creative future for the whole Christian community. If so, I, for one, will surely rejoice.

Did Paul Teach the Doctrine of the Atonement?

First, let me say very clearly that I am engaged in a problematic venture. I will be talking about texts that I am barely able to make out the words in Greek. Stating this is not a matter of modesty; it is simply acknowledging the deplorable truth. When David Lull, who teaches New Testament at Wartburg Theological Seminary, first asked me to consider taking part in a commentary series for Chalice Press that was to reflect a generally "process" view, I laughed at the idea. To write a commentary on a New Testament book must involve wrestling once again with the Greek text. It has been a source of keen regret to me throughout my career that I never learned to read it. As a theologian I have been completely dependent on New Testament scholars for my understanding of this crucial theological source. I have recognized as one reason for the overall superiority of the theologians of continental Europe their ability to relate their theological reflections directly to their own fresh encounter with the biblical texts. I have admired and envied the ability of a few American theologians to take part in this kind of reflection.

However, David did not allow this to end the discussion. He offered to co-author a commentary with me. I asked him why he did not just write the commentary himself, but I allowed myself to be convinced that a theological perspective, as well as technical scholarship, is involved in the interpretation of scripture. He thought I would bring a point of view and theological concerns that would be beneficial to the commentary.

When he further proposed that we could work together on Romans, I was persuaded to postpone other projects and give this one a try. In my view, legalism is undercutting the gospel in our churches today as much as ever. I could, of course, simply as a theologian write against legalism in our churches. In doing that I could point to passages in Paul for support. But a theologian in our day has very little authority, or even credibility. The Bible remains the central authority. To clarify its meaning and show its contemporary relevance has a greater chance of influencing Christians than other forms of theological writing.

Often legalists appeal to Paul in support of their position. Today this appeal is especially focused on turning what Paul says about homosexuality into moral and ecclesiastical laws. Nothing could be more offensive to Paul than that. However, many biblical scholars, because of their commendable desire to undercut the appalling anti-Judaism that has been associated with anti-legalism, have been downplaying Paul's polemic against legalism. I wanted to try my hand at showing the critical relevance of Paul's theology to the United Methodist Church (as well as other old-line denominations) without giving support to the anti-Judaism that we are fortunately beginning to overcome. I think David and I are doing this fairly successfully.

I had developed my understanding of Paul's rejection of legalism simply by reading English translations. To expound this in general did not require a great deal of critical new scholarship, although I learned much from this scholarship in the process.

However, under David's tutelage studying the new scholarship I found much that transformed by own understanding of Paul's theology. I like what we have now come to believe Paul taught much better than I liked the positions I previously attributed to him. For this transformation I have been completely dependent on David Lull and those scholars to whom he guided me. It is this new discovery on my part that I want to share with you today.

Previously I had thought that Paul provided a variety of images of how the salvation of Jesus was effected by Jesus, or better by God through Jesus. I thought it was important not to absolutise any one of these. We could say for sure that Paul thought that Jesus, especially the cross of Jesus, was the event through which salvation was mediated to those Gentiles who believed in Jesus, but that Paul did not feel the need to assert one clear theory of how the cross saved us. I thought that one of the images he used was that of an atoning sacrifice modeled on, and displacing, the sacrifices performed in the temple on the Day of Atonement. I thought that adopting a more or less Pauline Christianity did not require that one adopt an atonement theory, certainly not that of Anselm. However, I thought that atonement theories had a clear basis in Paul, not only in Romans 3:21-26 but also in a number of other passages.

I now believe that there is no atonement theory in Romans and that Paul had a different, and fairly clear, theory of how Jesus saves us. Lest one hear this as more extreme than it is, let me say emphatically that there is no question but that Paul thought that Jesus' death on the cross was central to human redemption. Furthermore, he believed that Jesus had died for the sake of sinners, including those in Rome whom he addressed. These ideas are central to Paul's teaching.

The question is whether Paul thought that God sacrificed Jesus to atone for human sins. During the past thousand years, this idea has often been viewed in the Western church as at the heart of Christianity, and many of those who uphold it have appealed to Paul as its basis. Accordingly, the question of whether Paul actually thought in this way is of some theological importance. On the other hand, many have found this idea repulsive and have blamed Paul for imposing it on the Christian imagination. Accordingly, there is also some importance in deciding whether the imposition was by Paul or on him.

Those persuaded that Paul did not think that God offered Jesus as an atoning sacrifice could simply shorten their list of models suggested by Paul about the way Jesus' death has functioned redemptively. But in the process of re-interpreting the text, an alternative emerges that seems to be quite consistently in Paul's mind. It is as important to spell out this alternative as to show that the atonement model is not Paul's.

If Paul had frequently imaged Jesus' death in terms of temple sacrifice and the Day of Atonement elsewhere, or if he had elaborated this idea in Romans, seeking an alternative interpretation of his teaching would be a waste of time. But this is emphatically not the case. Apart from one passage in Romans, 3:21-26, there would be no grounds for attributing this thinking to him. The impression that he taught this idea frequently grows out of traditional interpretations of this one passage and then reading other passages in light of this interpretation. But none of the other verses would by themselves lead to this doctrine if interpreters did not bring it to them. They can be understood more naturally and plausibly in another way.

The case for Paul's teaching the doctrine of the atonement actually rests, not on this whole passage, but on one part of one verse, Romans 3:25. Interpreting this one clause involves decisions on some very technical matters, but since I cannot deal with those, I will describe the issue in more general terms.

Many scholars have believed that this clause does use the temple sacrifice on the Day of Atonement as an image of what Jesus' death accomplished. The New Revised Standard Version makes the connection quite explicit. "whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood effective through faith." This translation is allowed by the Greek text, but it is not the only possible one.

In fact, the word "atonement" is lacking in many standard translations. The King James Translation uses "propitiation", and the Revised Standard Version uses "expiation." The American Translation reads: "For God showed him publicly dying as a sacrifice of reconciliation to be taken advantage of through faith." The Good News Bible renders the meaning as: "God offered him, so that by his sacrificial death he should become the means by which people's sins are forgiven through their faith in him."

Despite this variety, and the common avoidance of the word "atonement," all these translations agree with the New Revised Standard Version in suggesting that God sacrificed Jesus so that people could be reconciled to God through faith. All thereby support the idea that is most directly formulated by the use of the word "atonement."

Recently, however, several scholars have looked at the text without this idea of atonement in mind and have read it quite differently. To understand this new interpretation requires a detour focusing on the Greek word usually translated as "faith," the word pistis. All the translators of this passage assume that this pistis is that of those sinners for whom Jesus died. But the Greek reads as easily, some say more naturally, if the reference is to the pistis of Jesus rather than to the pistis of others directed toward Jesus. It has been widely assumed that Paul was not interested in Jesus, except for his death and resurrection, certainly not in his subjective states. Hence, despite the openness of the Greek to this reading, it never appears in most translations. In the NRSV, however, it sometimes appears in the footnotes as an alternate reading.

The resistance to reading the Greek in terms of the pistis of Jesus has been partly the result of the translation of pistis as "faith," This is a valid translation and richly suggestive word. In English, "faith" includes trust, belief, and assurance, all of which are also suggested by the Greek pistis. But pistis is even broader in its meaning. A number of Greek scholars have suggested that "faithfulness" captures this wider range of meanings better than "faith." This does not mean that there are not occasions when the focus is on trusting, believing, or being assured, so that translation with words such as these is also possible, and "faith" sometimes is best. But there are other times, when "faithfulness" helps us to understand Paul's intention better.

The main difference is that "faith" focuses attention on inner subjective states of being. These were important to Paul, and in some passages they are certainly in the foreground. But pistis was not limited to them. It is a way of being in the world. It expresses itself in the total relation to another, in Paul's case, often, to God.

If we think of "faithfulness" when Paul speaks of pistis, our reading of Paul changes significantly. For example, the contrast between pistis and "works," so important for the Reformers, is moderated. One cannot be faithful apart from action. The contrast of pistis and reason, which has also played a large a role in the history of Christian theology, does not come so sharply into view. Being faithful is not in opposition to being influenced by rational thought.

Recent scholarly interpreters of Romans have persuaded me that, whereas Paul may not have been interested in the pure subjectivity of Jesus, highlighted by the English word "faith," there is no reason to suppose that he was not interested in Jesus' faithfulness. I believe, therefore, that where the Greek is most naturally read as speaking of the pistis of Jesus, we should understand it to mean "the faithfulness of Jesus." Once this is established as important to Paul, this translation should be tried out even in passages that can be read equally well as attributing pistis to Jesus or to his followers. The choice in these cases will ultimately be theological. Which reading makes the meaning fit better with Paul's views as expressed elsewhere?

This experiment will be particularly important when we undertake to unpack the passage crucial to our topic: Romans 3:21-26. Let's begin with the New Revised Standard Version and then engage in a process of re-translation.

"But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed and is attested by the law and the prophets, the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove in the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus."

Now consider a change in the last part of the first sentence. The NRSV itself indicates in a footnote that the Greek can be read as "the righteousness of God through the faith of Jesus Christ for all who believe." This removes the puzzle of two successive references to faith in Jesus in the NRSV translation; "faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe." According to the Harper Collins Study Bible, which is based on the NRSV, this "alternate translation … is closer to the Greek and is gaining acceptance. . ."

One remaining problem with making this change is that it is hard to see how Jesus' faith reveals the righteousness of God. However, if we translate pistis as faithfulness, this problem disappears. The righteousness of God has been revealed through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ. This is effective for all who have pistis. This is translated as "for all who believe." But it makes more sense if we do not focus on the beliefs entertained but on faithfulness.

The beginning of the sentence in the NRSV is also puzzling to the reader. The translation is correct, but confusing. It says that what is disclosed apart from the law is attested in the law. Paul uses "law" in two ways. Sometimes it means all the laws that the good Jew was taught to follow. Sometimes it means what we call the Pentateuch. Paul believed that the Pentateuch and the books of the prophets teach that people are saved by pistis in a way that makes obeying laws unnecessary. The meaning of what is given in the NRSV as the first sentence of the passage can be more clearly, and more accurately, if not quite so literally, rendered in English, therefore, as "Apart from the law the righteousness of God has now been disclosed to all who are faithful in the faithfulness of Jesus. This is attested by the Jewish scriptures."

I propose one more change. The primary advantage of this change does not appear until we get to the end of the passage. The Greek word dikaiosyne that here, and generally elsewhere, is translated as "righteousness" can equally well be translated "justice." Indeed, when translating non-Jewish Greek texts, this is standard practice. The reason that most translators of Paul usually use "righteousness" is that the Hebrew words replaced by this Greek word have a broader meaning than the Greek word had elsewhere. "Righteousness," in English is also more inclusive that justice.

I do not question that when Paul used the word it had a richer meaning than was borne by its usual Greek usage. Nevertheless, he was writing chiefly to Gentiles for whom it would probably connote much of what "justice" connotes to us. Further, Paul's paradoxical point is heard more sharply in English if we translate dikaiosyne as "justice." What is disclosed in Jesus' faithfulness is that God's justice is very different from the Wrath that had previously been associated with it. The meaning of true justice in human affairs is also quite different from the ordinary understanding.

Furthermore, the same root underlies the word that is regularly translated as "justification." Some have suggested that this could be replaced by something such as "rightwising," in order to bring out the close connection in Paul's mind between the character of God and the way God regards those who are faithful. This remains awkward. The simpler solution is to use "just" in both cases. I am not alone in preferring this translation. It is adopted in the New English Bible and also the NIV.

Accordingly, we now read: "Apart from the law the justice of God has now been disclosed to all who are faithful in the faithfulness of Jesus."

The next change I propose is from "redemption" to "liberation" in verse 24. This is less important. "Redemption" is in fact an excellent translation, and it has been used in most translations from the King James on. However, the word has taken on a theological aura in subsequent use and connects the reader to the idea of atonement that lies just ahead in the NRSV. The connection with the original meaning of the word, that is, buying the freedom of a slave, is hardly heard. If we suppose that meaning to have been in Paul's mind, then "ransoming" would be the best translation. This would provide a basis for a different theory of the work of Christ, one that played a large role in the early church. Since Paul sometimes speaks of our being slaves of sin before we become faithful, we could understand him to mean here that Christ pays a price to sin for our freedom.

However, to take this route would be to press the original meaning of the word too far. The focus here is not on paying a price but on setting free. Those translations that do not settle for "redemption" move in this direction. The American Translation speaks of "deliverance;" the New English Bible, of "liberation;" and the Good News Bible of setting free.

If we ask from what we are liberated, the answer, in the context of Romans is the power of sin, the law, and the flesh. We can then ask what Paul means by this liberation being "in" Christ Jesus, and I suggest that he means "effected by." The argument seems to be that the faithfulness of Jesus Christ has effected the liberation of those who are faithful.

Now we come to the key phrase: "whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith." This needs to be reconsidered in several respects. First, there is the question of the final phrase "effective through faith." This has been generally taken to mean that the sacrifice of Jesus atones for the sins of those who believe in him. But we have seen that the earlier part of the paragraph can be better understood if we take Jesus' faithfulness to be what discloses the justice of God. If so, it fits the context better to suppose that the "faith" through which the liberation becomes effective is the faithfulness of Jesus.

Next, "the blood" here is a way of speaking of Jesus' death. The King James and the RSV and NRSV keep the literal reference to blood, but most other translations understand this simply as a way of referring to Jesus' death. If the "faithfulness" is that of Jesus, then the Greek can be understood to connect that faithfulness to Jesus' death. What liberates us by revealing God's justice is Jesus' being faithful even to death.

But what about "the sacrifice of atonement?" The Greek word hilasterion was used in reference to the Day of Atonement and the rites associated with it. The translators of the NRSV assumed that this connection was decisive for Paul's meaning. But the word is used in a far more general sense as well, so that the reference to the Day of Atonement should not be assumed without other evidence. Since Paul made no reference to it elsewhere, and since the passage can be read better without the connotations of atonement, that evidence is lacking.

The word hilasterion does not appear elsewhere in Paul. However, it is used in Luke 18:13. There it means, according to Luke Johnson, "to 'cover over' something by overlooking or forgiving or not counting against" people the wrong they have done. A positive relation is thereby restored. (Reading Romans NY: Crossroad, 1997, p. 59) In the second half of the verse, Paul picks up on this idea, writing of "God's having passed over the sins previously committed." The word "conciliation" has been proposed as a translation of hilasterion here to replace "sacrifice of atonement." Finally, instead of God putting this forward, we may think of God as purposing this.

We now get the following translation. "which God purposed as an act of conciliation through Jesus' faithfulness to death." The connection with animal sacrifice on the Day of Atonement is entirely absent. Although Jesus' death is important for Paul, it seems important here chiefly as an indication of the radical character of Jesus' faithfulness. This is a note struck elsewhere by Paul, and in the gospels as well.

The remainder of the passage has difficulties, but it makes more sense based on this reading than that of NRSV. The NRSV leaves the reader wondering how God's sacrificing Jesus shows God's justice. That God had earlier passed over sins does not provide any answer to this question. Nor are we helped by being told that God sacrificed Jesus to prove that God is just and that God justifies those who have faith in Jesus.

Here the use of "just" instead of "righteous" brings out the connection between God's character and the condition of the faithful. God's justice includes justifying the faithful. The word "justify" has a primarily forensic character, whereas the Greek does not. It can mean that God makes the faithful just, as well as that God treats them as if they were just. When pistis is understood as "faith," the emphasis must lie on the forensic element. But when what is in view is faithfulness, that God effects in the faithful something of the justice that characterizes God also makes good sense. Paul probably did not reflect much on this difference.

There is another advantage of using "just" rather than "righteous" to describe God in this passage. It brings out the paradox more clearly. God has shown justice by not punishing sinners. That means that God's justice is quite different from what human beings normally think of as justice. It is this kind of justice that God effects in, or attributes to, the faithful.

In consideration of all this, our proposed translation is as follows: "God did this (the act of conciliation) to show God's justice (which had been disclosed in Jesus' faithfulness). Although God had expressed forbearance earlier by passing over sins, the new disclosure was to demonstrate at the present time that God is just and that God justifies the one who participates in the faithfulness of Jesus."

Much of the difference comes from relating what is said here to a different reading of the preceding sentences. The other major change is in the last phrase, where we shift from "the one who has faith in Jesus" to "the one who participates in the faithfulness of Jesus." That this is a possible reading of the Greek is acknowledged in a footnote in the NRSV, which offers the alternative "who has the faith of Jesus." This is more intelligible and plausible when, as I have explained earlier, we translate pistis as faithfulness. The shift from "having the faithfulness of Jesus" to "participating in the faithfulness of Jesus" is an effort to bring out the probable meaning in harmony with Paul's general thinking about how the faithful relate to Jesus.

We are proposing here that the faithful participate in the faithfulness of Jesus. This may seem a strange idea initially. But the more one reads of Paul, the more participation in and with Jesus appears as central to Paul's thought. Romans 6:3-6 is full of images of this kind. There is no need to re-translate the NRSV in order to bring this out.

"Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin."

At the heart of Paul's vision of salvation is the idea that the faithful were crucified with Jesus, buried with Jesus, and will be raised with him. I understand this in terms of participation. The faithful participate in Jesus crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection. In Romans 8:17 we learn that we also suffer with Jesus. It would be easy to expand this discussion of Paul's vision of how we are related to Jesus or to Christ. The faithful are in Christ, and Christ is in them.

Given all this, it is hard to see why there should be resistance to seeing the faithful as participating in the faithfulness of Jesus. This is the most inclusive way of stating the relation. Participation in Jesus' faithfulness, which was a faithfulness even to a suffering death on the cross, includes participation in Jesus' crucifixion, suffering, death, and burial. Since Jesus' faithfulness climaxes in resurrection, participation in that faithfulness involves anticipation of resurrection.

Those who insist on the atonement often suppose that without such a doctrine Christians cannot explain how their salvation depends on Jesus Christ. They point out that what is called the moral influence theory fails to take full account of the power of sin. Paul certainly gives some suggestion of an influence of Jesus upon us, with his extraordinary faithfulness even to death on the cross evoking faithfulness on our part. But the idea of moral influence is far too weak to capture his meaning.

Paul surely believed that Jesus revealed the nature of God's justice and that in doing this, Jesus deeply changed the way we think of God and relate to God. But Paul did not suppose that changing our understanding of God by itself saved us.

Paul believed that in Jesus God won a victory over sin. But the idea that God did this by paying Jesus to the Devil as the price for ransoming human beings would have made no sense to him. Certainly, the later explanation of God's victory over the Devil in terms of tricking him into unjustly killing Jesus was not at all in the horizons of his thought.

I agree with the objections to these alternative theories of what was redemptive in Jesus. But the failure of these other theories does not justify any claim that Paul supports the theory of atonement. He does not teach that God sacrificed Jesus as the price for justifying us. Even if the NRSV translation of Romans 3:25 were correct, this would be far too slight a foundation for the judgment that this is Paul's true view of how Jesus saves us. And I am convinced that this verse is more accurately understood in a quite different way, a way that fits his overall position much better.

Jesus saves us by being radically faithful. This faithfulness shows us the true character of God's justice. This whole passage emphasizes God's disclosing and demonstrating this paradoxical justice that would more typically be called mercy. The disclosure transforms the relation of God and the world from one of wrath of one of love. Human participation is this new transformed situation is by faithfulness. This faithfulness is a participation in the faithfulness of Jesus. God views those who participate in Jesus' faithfulness in terms of the justice to which they thereby attain rather than in terms of their continuing sinfulness. This participation in Jesus' faithfulness entails readiness to suffer with Jesus. In baptism we participate in Jesus' death and burial. By thus being united with Jesus, the faithful live in confidence that they will rise with him and share in his glory.

This final resurrection is the fullness of salvation. It involves the liberation of the entire cosmos. But in the meantime the faithful live in the tension between the change that has already come into being through their dying to the life of sin and the continuing power of sin. They are already justified, already reconciled, already indwelt by the Spirit. But all of this is only a foretaste of the blessedness to come.

In this situation obedience to the many laws or rules governing what is usually understood to be the righteous life is irrelevant. The question is faithfulness and what that entails. Paul discusses that quite concretely in Chapters 12-14. What is involved in faithful living is immensely important, but it is not settled by appeal to moral principles. Indeed the style of life that is governed by rules or principles has not yet been liberated.

I did not start working on this commentary with this understanding of Paul. Frankly, I found Paul's various statements and images about salvation confused and confusing. If I am confined to the English translations, I still find them so. Hence I close as I began with my appreciation to the scholars, especially David Lull, who have opened up to me the scriptures. What I now see in Paul is far more attractive than what I had previously understood.

Part of the attraction is a greater congeniality of Paul to process theology than I had anticipated. Process thought emphasizes that human experiences participate in the formation of other human experiences. This is "influence" in a much stronger sense than is meant by those who see each entity as self-contained. From that point of view Jesus can influence us only in the sense that our admiration of Jesus may influence our actions. For process thought, and for Paul, Jesus can flow into us, partially constituting what we are.

Nevertheless, this does not mean that I can simply subscribe to Paul's views. His vision of a final consummation is beautiful, but incredible. Whatever happens on this planet, the vast reaches of the cosmos will be little affected. Further, I cannot live by an expectation that one of these days the faithful will be publicly glorified and that the whole planet with all its inhabitants will be thereby transformed.

How drastically does that separate me, and others who share my incredulity, from Paul? This depends on two things. First, how important was this picture to Paul? Second, what alternative eschatologies can be convincing to us?

With regard to Paul, I judge first that the expectation that the faithful have a destiny like that of Jesus was central to his hope. He had glimpsed the glory of the resurrected Jesus in a vision. He was confident that those who participated in his faithfulness would share that blessedness. Without that confidence, he would not have had a gospel to proclaim. But beyond that there is considerable variation in his comments on the final salvation. It seems that no one formulation of the final salvation was essential to his message.

I do believe that we all live on in God beyond our physical death. What the process conceptuality most clearly implies is that all that we have been remains forever alive in God. This conceptuality allows for new experiences in continuity with those that have constituted our lives in this world. Some combination of these ideas might explain what Paul experienced as the risen Christ. The expectation that we can be united with Christ in death and in the life to come could constitute a hope close enough to that of Paul to support much of his theory of salvation.

I must still acknowledge the deep divide between my thinking in the twenty-first century and that of Paul. He lived in the excitement of a community that anticipated the key role in the final salvation of the whole world. Efforts to recreate that kind of expectation today are more likely to lead to dangerous cults than to the profoundly different communities that Paul brought into being. In Paul's day accepting baptism truly separated one from much of the world in which one had lived and initiated one into another, quite different, context. Today, in a country like ours, the boundaries between the church and the world are blurred, and interpreting baptism as dying and being buried with Jesus often rings false.

I could continue in this vein. We cannot solve the many problems we confront today by direct appeal to Paul's teaching. Nevertheless, most of us owe our participation in the Christian movement to Paul's theology. His message that through Jesus we have come to know God's justice as love rather than as wrath has deeply shaped our understanding. His vision of how we participate in one another and in Jesus is a needed challenge to our usual habits of mind. His call for us to be ready to participate in Jesus' suffering is as needed now as ever. I could continue in this vein as well.

Paul remains our greatest theologian. We need to return to him again and again. When we do so, we find that we have misunderstood him as much as we have learned from him. When we understand him better, we can learn from him afresh. I am in the process of such learning and I invite you to share in it.

 

The Common Good in a Postmodern World

A topic of this kind lends itself to discussion at many levels. One is the level of the common good of a national society. The other is the common good of the whole world. In the first instance, Cobb focuses on multiculturalism; in the second, on the economy.

I

In highly homogeneous societies, the idea that all should strive for the common good is not difficult to understand or promote. There is likely to be a widely shared judgment as to the values that contribute to the common good and even of the means of working for their implementation. Of course, there will be disputes, but the debate can be carried on within a common frame of discourse. There are still countries where this situation obtains.

However, in many countries, such homogeneity has long been lacking. The situation in each of these countries is different; so one cannot say much at a general level of whether the common good is to be sought in all and, if so, by what means. For example, the Canadian situation is different from that in the United States, and I will not address a topic on which most of you are much better informed than I. I know the American situation best, and will limit myself in these initial remarks to that.

The response to a plurality of cultures in the United States has often been the effort of the majority culture to integrate others into that culture or to segregate them from the dominant society. In fact, of course, those it sought to integrate, and even those it sought to segregate, influenced the dominant culture. But the primary force of American policies was to weaken the minority cultures for the sake of greater homogeneity.

This effort to integrate others into the dominant Anglo Protestant culture of the United States was often led by people of good will. The results, nevertheless, were horrendous. The most dramatic case was that of Native Americans. By the latter part of the nineteenth century, the United States had reduced the condition of most of the surviving Native Americans to misery, and many people of good will thought the only escape from that misery would be cultural assimilation of the children. They believed that removing them from their families and raising them in a completely Anglo-controlled environment was the only way to achieve this goal. Hence a system of Indian schools was developed. Children were taken from their parents by force, not allowed to speak their native tongues, and systematically socialized into Anglo ways. The pain suffered by those thus treated as well as by their families was incalculable.

The alternative of segregation was, of course, no better. This was the fate suffered by most African Americans. Segregation meant exclusion from the dominant society and systematic economic exploitation. The means of enforcing acceptance were brutal. Even those African Americans who despite segregation succeeded in assimilating culturally were not allowed to integrate.

For many African Americans the goal became integration into the dominant society. Their efforts finally culminated in a change of the political and educational systems that resulted in support of integration instead of segregation. But by the time that goal was achieved, many African Americans recognized its limitations and problems. Integration meant alienation from what was distinctive in the African American culture and heritage. Imposed segregation was replaced, in some cases, by a self-chosen separation from the dominant society.

Meanwhile other ethnic groups experienced varying mixtures of exclusion and assimilation. Neither met their real needs, and there are many stories of the suffering that has resulted. Gradually, a new image of a multicultural society has emerged to guide people of goodwill in their efforts to find a better way. The common good must be the good of all the communities involved.

Our topic is the common good in a postmodern world. "Postmodern" means many things to many people. But one idea common to most forms of postmodernism is an emphasis on openness to, and affirmation of, diversity. This means that the account above locates the "modern" in terms of the efforts either to assimilate or to exclude and the "postmodern" in terms of the recognition and acceptance of cultural diversity.

Beyond this point we come to a parting of the ways among postmodernists. In their reaction against the modern responses to diversity, some resist any effort to identify a common good for the society as a whole. Such a common good, they feel will be defined by those who have the power to do so. Others will be pressed into its service.

Resistance to identifying the common good of the society as a whole finds support among some of the communities I have mentioned. I have personally encountered it especially strongly among Native Americans. The idea that each community should adapt itself to what it determined to be the common good, even if this new definition is worked out in discussions among the many communities, sounds in their ears as if they will be asked to make some further sacrifice. Their task is to seek their own good, and the pursuit of that project means primarily the defense of their land against further encroachments and, where possible, the recovery of lands that have been illegally taken from them. When they do recover land, they recognize the need to disrupt the lives of the inhabitants as little as possible. But whether this serves some larger common good does not currently seem to them to be their concern.

For many other groups, as well, the priority remains defending themselves and gaining greater access to the resources of the nation. Nevertheless, many of them recognize that the health of the nation as a whole is important for their future well being. Also, they do not want to be in the position primarily of competing with one another for a place in the dominant society. Hence, the idea of thinking together about the kind of society that would enable them to flourish without harming other groups makes sense. This is a second form of postmodernism, one that emphasizes the need to construct new models and visions to replace the modern ones that still need deconstruction.

This is the form of postmodernism to which I subscribe. It is sometimes named "constructive" or "reconstructive" postmodernism. For us constructive postmodernists, although it is important to recognize and affirm differences, it is also important to think through how different groups can live together in a way that is mutually satisfactory, and even, hopefully, mutually beneficial.

We have a long way to go to develop a vision of the common good for pluralistic American society. Nevertheless, constructive postmodernists believe that we have some clues as to how the process can be initiated. Since I have been involved in one such effort, I will describe what we did and how far we have come. There is, I think, some value in using examples.

Some of us "constructive postmodernists" at the Center for Process Studies thought we observed an emerging interest among some leaders in ethnic minority cultures in finding ways to live together for the benefit of all. For some time this had seemed important to us. But we were predominantly Anglo and, hence, in a poor position to give leadership. Nevertheless, we broached the idea to some of our ethnic friends and colleagues, and a Korean-American professor agreed to take the lead in organizing a conference.

One need was to decide the number of ethnic groups to include in the conference. One could identify hundreds of such groups, and in principle all should have a voice. If we limited the conference to twenty people, as we planned, we could have had representatives of twenty cultures. However, it seemed better to have strong teams from a few cultures instead. We settled on five cultures with four representatives of each.

The second question was which cultures to include. Any decision has an arbitrary character; so I will not defend our choices: Native American, African American, Mexican American, Korean American, and European American, which, for convenience, I will call Anglo for short. If we had been planning this after September 11, 2001, we would certainly included Near Easterners, probably Muslim Arabs, but at the time we did not give this group priority. How quickly the scene changes!

The planning group for the conference had representatives of each of these five groups. We at the Center had originally supposed that the conference could deal fairly quickly with the story of past injustices and move on to ideas about the future. We were wrong. The planning committee decided on four presentations from each group, with only the last dealing directly with the question that we had particularly wanted addressed. It became clear that, even though the people we were working with were far more ready to think about the common good than most, there was still a strong need to emphasize who they were in their differences and the suffering they had experienced and still experienced. Only when those matters were fully articulated could the discussion move on to hopeful possibilities. All of this illustrated the fact that Anglos such as myself are in poor position to judge what is desirable and possible in a multicultural situation. We were wise only in having turned planning over to a committee in which the Anglo voice was only one of five. The conference organization was itself an outgrowth of multicultural reflection about what would work best for all concerned. We who had made the initial suggestion were relieved that the planners were willing to include, in the final round, papers dealing with the topic we had had in mind.

One feature of the actual conference that we had not thought about in advance was the way participants experienced a discussion in which Anglos were a small minority. For most of the Anglos this was a new experience, and the same was true for most of the others. The result was considerable pain for the Anglos. Their proposals and suggestions were typically treated with considerable suspicion, and they experienced the give and take as rather harsh and even angry. Some of the others experienced a sense of exhilaration at being part of the overwhelming majority.

One problem, familiar to conference organizers, is that it was late before the final round of papers was presented. In addition, the participants were tired. Hence there was less attention to this set of papers, from my point of view the most important ones, than to earlier presentations, which covered more familiar territory.

The Anglo proposal for moving toward the common good was in terms of finding a common story, or at least common themes in the multiple stories. The author was convinced that a nation requires some commonality among its people in order to fulfill its proper functions. He was not opposed to multiculturalism, but he was convinced that simply breaking up into separate groups is not a real possibility for a nation. A reaction in the dominant community is already setting in against accepting diversity and in favor of making new efforts at assimilating all into the dominant culture. He hoped to deflect that move.

He proposed that what is common to all our stories is the disruption involved in being uprooted from our earlier homes and having to reestablish ourselves in a strange place. He thought that this commonality in our experience could enable us to understand one another and to tell our national history in a way that would draw us together instead of leading us to mutual opposition.

Although over time this proposal has received some support from other participants in the conference, within the conference itself the dominant response was critical, even hostile. The paper made an effort to include the Native Americans in the story because they, too, have suffered massive uprooting and disruption. But their spokespersons insisted that this did not characterize them. They feel themselves to be still in their own land, even though they have been deprived of most of it and are now drastically restricted to small patches of what was once theirs. As the indigenous people they do not share the story of the immigrants and do not want to be included in it.

The African American response was also negative. The experience of capture, enslavement, the middle passage, and being sold to Anglo owners is not analogous to that of Europeans leaving their homes for better economic opportunities in the Western Hemisphere. Only the Koreans found it possible to identify somewhat fully with the model proposed.

The African American and Korean American proposals were similar, and they received considerable acceptance in the group. These proposals assumed that all the cultural streams should be affirmed as having their distinctive value and encouraged to maintain themselves. At the same time, they assumed that all are changing and developing. They also assumed that this development is affected, and should be affected, by the multicultural context in the United States.

This means that Korean or African American culture can thrive precisely by adapting to the new context and learning from others. One of the authors was particularly clear that his culture needed to learn new patterns of relating between men and women from developments in the culture that happen to have been initiated primarily by Anglo women. Their proposals, although directed primarily at the Anglo culture, rightly call for changes in all the cultures.

These changes will occur differently in the several cultures. For example, African American women describe themselves as "womanist" and criticize Anglo feminism from that point of view. Korean and Korean-American women are also finding their distinctive voice. Nevertheless, this wider movement of women making their voices heard is an example of the dynamism that characterizes all the cultures involved.

If all the cultures are dynamic and learning from the multicultural situation itself and from one another, then a new situation of mutual support and cooperation can grow out of this creative process. The common good can only be specified through this process of interchange and development. However, the process itself can already be seen as for the common good. The culture that emerges will have more commonality than the present multicultural society can have, but this commonality will have elements contributed by all the particular cultures and other elements that grow out of the multicultural situation itself. It will not be what is now common to all existing cultures, and it certainly will not be the imposition of one existing culture's values on all. As seen in the case of the new audibility of women's voices, it will have elements that none of the historic cultures have had.

The common good, then, is not a particular pattern or condition that can be spelled out as a goal. Only the process of defining and moving toward it can now be affirmed with some clarity. But that does not make the idea irrelevant or ineffective. Cultures that recognize the importance of participating in a society that is good for all of them will develop somewhat differently from those that do not thematize this goal.

Although this idea of multiple dynamic cultures moving in directions that become more overlapping and mutually supportive was generally affirmed, one group rejected it. The Native Americans do not want to be part of this development. Their interest is in recovering their traditional patterns and maintaining them in some purity. They know that they have changed, but they have not experienced this as a dynamic development of learning from others.

Indeed, the Native American presentation, as noted above, rejected the topic as a whole and explained why. The author heard the call to work together for the common good as a demand that each group make some sacrifice so that all would benefit. Native Americans, he argued had already given up almost everything. They have their hands more that full defending themselves against further depredations and seeking to recover some of their ancient land. What they want from the nation as a whole is a little justice and considerable autonomy. Unlike other peoples within the United States, they are recognized as separate nations with complex relations to state and national governments. Although any notion of total independence is irrelevant to the actual situation, and they prize their American citizenship, they do want their separate nationhood respected.

It was apparent that what the Native American heard in "the common good" was not what the Korean and African-American presenters were advocating. Nevertheless, even with this latter understanding, he wanted to opt out. The Native Americans have in fact influenced the dominant culture, but further influence is not their current interest. Many Anglos want to learn from them, but teaching these would-be students is not their interest. On the other side, they have certainly been influenced by the dominant culture. Indeed, as we have seen, many were forcibly socialized into it. But further influence is not what they want. This is true even if the further influence comes from minority communities.

It was clear that when the concerns of Native Americans are included in any approximation to the common good, society would need to advance their claims. Unless Native Americans benefit, the actual result would not be a gain in the common good. Since Native Americans are not seeking to eject those who have taken their land or those who have come subsequently to occupy it, some positive response to their claims should certainly be possible without significantly harming any other group. The difference between the relation of Native Americans to the common good of the nation as a whole and that of other groups can be strongly affirmed. Their position does not in fact preclude a concern for, or efforts to achieve, the common good, but it is a warning against supposing that there is one common way for all groups to relate to the nation and the common good of its people. The acceptance of diversity must go deeper.

II

The common good is not only a matter of finding a satisfactory common goal for a multicultural society. It also involves economic and political structures. Ideally these will be envisioned and shaped through interaction among multiple cultural groups. But we in the dominant group cannot wait for that to occur before reflecting on the ways in which the current order works against the common good and how that might be changed.

To those postmodernists who emphasize only diversity and privilege local knowledge, discussion of global economics by a member of the dominant culture may seem arrogant. Such reflection is sometimes dismissed as "totalizing." Perhaps it is. One could decide that only by a more precise definition of "totalizing" than is usually provided. However that may be, to fail to consider what is wrong globally, what is assaulting local communities and local knowledge everywhere, seems to constructive postmodernists a still more serious failure.

Fortunately, historic events are narrowing the practical gap between the two forms of postmodernism. The numerous nongovernmental organizations that gather in Porto Alegre annually reflect a great deal of local knowledge. Their slogan is "another world is possible." They call their meetings the World Social Forum to contrast themselves with the World Economic Forum meeting at the same time in Davos, Switzerland. The naming of their movement identifies one of the points that constructive postmodernists have been making for some time. That point is: the economy should serve the society. The current situation, in which societies are restructured in the service of the global economy, is intolerable.

A second point that is widely accepted, almost assumed, at Porto Alegre is that local economies are preferable to the global one. This is in full agreement with the constructive postmodern view. We have emphasized the principle of subsidiarity, that is, that decisions should be made at the lowest possible level. This means that local communities should be able to make many of their own decisions. They can do so only if they have control over their own economies. Of course, there are other decisions that can only be made at the global level. With respect to these, the goal is to have as much local participation as possible in making them.

The meetings at Porto Alegre do not issue statements expressing their conclusions. Hence, I cannot proceed to list other areas of agreement, although I believe the congeniality between what I have been writing as a constructive postmodernist and the general consensus at Porto Alegre goes much further. If this turns out not to be the case, that is, if those who are working most closely with people in highly varied situations all over the world come to conclusions in conflict with mine, I am certainly open to revision. I respect their local knowledge.

I differ, however, from those postmodernists who resist all generalizations and inclusive stories. If we do not provide better generalizations than those that now rule the world, local knowledge everywhere will be suppressed. We need to tell better stories about the economy than those that justify present practice. Our generalizations and our stories will certainly be expressive of particular points of view and will be influenced by our position of comfort in the center of empire. No stories are neutral and objective. But we need stories. The stories that now control the course of planetary history are leading us to destruction. Local stories cannot stop this development. We must take the risk.

I like Luther's adage, Sin boldly! The problem arises most acutely if we either refuse to sin at all, which means we commit the sin of omission, or we fail to recognize the sin involved in the arrogance of making general pronouncements. To act in the awareness of the distortions that are inescapable, trying to check ourselves against them, is the best we can do.

Constructive postmodernists affirm the importance of metaphysics, a type of inquiry that has been rejected both by late modernists and by deconstructive postmodernists. Our belief is that modern metaphysics controls much of the thought of those who reject metaphysical discourse. We need to bring this metaphysics to consciousness and discuss it. When we try to replace it by something that is not at the level of metaphysics, we fail. We need to propose a better metaphysics.

Let me illustrate in terms of the economic theory that supports economic globalization. Modern economic theory originated in the late eighteenth century and accepted the metaphysics of the day. When one accepts the basic assumptions of one's culture, one is not pressed to acknowledge, or even to recognize that one's assumptions are metaphysical. When one then proceeds to reject metaphysical inquiry, one closes the door to effective criticism. Thus, in the university, from which metaphysical inquiry is virtually excluded, each academic discipline is allowed its full autonomy, and noone is expected to criticize its assumptions. It is not only economics whose foundations in modern metaphysics are thus secured from criticism.

Yet the assumptions of the dominant economic theory are rather obviously false. When social psychologists, political theorists, or historians examine them, they do not stand up. Sadly, this has little effect within the discipline. For the purposes of the discipline, the assumptions are fruitful. The disconnect with the real world is of secondary concern.

I have said the assumptions are rooted in metaphysics. The dominant modern metaphysics affirms that the world is made up of two types of substances. There are mental substances and material substances. Each individual substance is self-contained, relating to other substances only externally. Intrinsic value is located only in the mental substances, and the only mental substances are human minds. The value of other things, including other animals, is their value to human beings. This metaphysics can be supported and developed in very subtle and complex ways. But the outcome, as relevant to economics, is quite simple.

These metaphysical views constitute a large part of the assumptional basis of economic theory. The human beings who are the actors in the economic drama are self-contained, relating to other substances only externally. Intrinsic value is located only in human experience. Everything else has value only as human beings desire it. Economic theory goes on to identify this value with the price paid for such objects in the market place.

Economic theory builds on these assumptions to state that people are fundamentally rational. Each strives to obtain as much as possible of desired commodities or services for as little expenditure as possible. Each strives to work as little as possible for the highest payment possible. Relations between people are essentially competitive. The theory shows that this aim of each individual to get as much s possible for as little as possible stimulates economic activity in such a way that the society as a whole benefits. What is meant by speaking of this general benefit is that there are more goods and services available in the society as a whole.

It can further be shown, within the theory, that the larger the market, the more efficiently resources can be allocated and, therefore, the more rapidly production increases. Originally this point was made in order to expand the market, that is, the region in which goods and investments move freely, from villages and regions to nations. Now, of course, the same argument justifies the global market.

Now consider what this metaphysical vision precludes. Since people are related to one another only externally, there can be no real community. There can only be voluntary associations the members of which calculate that the association is beneficial to them as individuals. Relations among human beings do not contribute to intrinsic value. Hence the destruction of human community and the deterioration of human relations that accompany the expansion of the market are not considered to be losses. Similarly the idea of fairness or justice plays no role in economic theory.

Since the natural world is understood simply as resource for commodities, there is no concern about ecological decay. Since relations to the natural world are purely external, there can be no consideration of how the decay of that world affects the spirits and general well being of its human inhabitants. Since everything except human minds is simply matter, exhaustion of resources does not figure in economic theory. One bit of matter is replaceable by other bits of matter.

Some suppose that as the limitations of economic theory appear, new branches can be developed to deal with them. For example, as economists are forced to recognize that there are costs associated with exhausting resources and polluting the environment, it is possible to tackle these new questions in terms of the existing economic paradigm. That is true. But the results show the effects of the unchanged assumptions. Those who do not share the modern metaphysics find them still profoundly unsatisfactory.

To challenge this extension of the paradigm to new fields, there has arisen, largely outside of economics departments, an international society for ecological economics. There are also national societies, such as the Canadian Society for Ecological Economics. This way of thinking is largely excluded from economics departments because it approaches the question with different assumptions about who human beings are, how they are related to one another, what the natural world is, and how humans are related to it. These different assumptions are not the ones that shaped modernity. Constructive postmodernists call them postmodern.

Here, too, the metaphysics can be developed quite complexly. I am a disciple of Alfred North Whitehead, who did develop a metaphysics able to deal with the complexities of relativity and quantum theory as well as with religious experience. But in order to state the features of this postmodern metaphysics that are relevant for rethinking economic theory, only a few quite simple points are needed.

For Whitehead a human experience is not at all self-contained. It grows out of the immediate past experiences, the body, its near environment, and, ultimately, out of the whole past world.. In other words a human experience is constituted largely by its relations to other entities. These relations are internal to it. They are with other people, other animals, plants, and inorganic things. All these other entities, when fully analyzed, are found to partake of the same character as the experience itself. That is, every actual entity is a coalescence of its whole world. Whitehead's term is concrescence.

The implications for economic theory should be clear. Each of us is bound up with others. The well being of others contributes to our well being. This does not exclude competition, but it subordinates it to our relations in community. Without at least a minimal community, we cannot live at all. A community requires some measure of harmony. And there can be no community without some consensus about fairness and justice, whether these terms are used or others. None of these crucial points can arise within modern economic thinking. But nothing is more important than that the economic order serve community instead of, as now occurs, destroying it.

Furthermore, our internal relations are not only with other people. They are with the natural world as well. The health of the biosphere is important to human health. The well being of the other creatures has intrinsic importance and is also important for us. The economy should serve the ecology, not destroy it.

These principles follow quite directly from a postmodern metaphysics. Of course, just as the metaphysics needs, for varying purposes, to be developed further and more complexly, so also the economics needs, for varying purposes, to be developed further and more complexly. But the fundamental understanding of its role as serving community should guide all this development.

Thus far the fundamental purpose of the economy as understood on the basis of modern metaphysics is to increase the total quantity of goods and services available to human beings as individuals. Economic theory has succeeded brilliantly in guiding human development in this direction. Since the theory has no place for justice, the huge growth in production has not benefited the poor. Since the theory has no place for community, this growth has destroyed most traditional communities and many modern ones as well. Since the theory has no place for the natural world, the practice is now clearly unsustainable in physical terms and has already severely degraded the earth.

From the constructive postmodern point of view, the work of building up an alternative body of theory and beginning to implement it is urgent. I hope it can be informed by the many voices that gather at Porto Alegre, but we in the first world also have our responsibility. We Westerners created the modern metaphysics and built our academic disciplines upon it. We need to deconstruct that metaphysics and reconceive the organization of knowledge that is based upon it. But deconstruction will not suffice. The world cannot exist without an economic order. We need an order that supports the local rather than constantly overriding it. We need a theory that both shows the reason for this need and also can be developed in rich detail to deal with the many diverse situations that arise locally as well

as with the ways local economies relate to one another and to the planet as a whole.

When we view the domination of the university by academic disciplines based on modern metaphysics, and the domination of the world by policies that derive from the theories taught there, it is hard not to become deeply discouraged. But there are signs of hope. The demonstrable harm that has been done to so many people by the globalization of the economy is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Sadly, modern economics is a deductive discipline rather than an empirical or historical one. Hence facts play little role in the evaluation of basic theories.

Still, more and more economists are given pause by the vast suffering their theories have engendered and the consistent failure of their predictions that application of their theories will bring prosperity. The kind of confidence they once displayed about the glories of economic globalization has been shaken.

The meetings at Davos and of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund also lack the self-assuredness that formerly characterized them. Two of the recent meetings of the World Trade Organization collapsed, and its future is now somewhat in doubt. Meanwhile civil society has become clear that the changes needed are fundamental. And the meetings at Porto Alegre grow dramatically from year to year.

Persons responsible for the environment have found that standard economic theories do not help them. Despite the second-class status of ecological economics, it is beginning to play a role in policy formation. I have hopes that Canada will lead the way.

Although elites in many Third World countries, and in formerly Second World countries as well, have profited from economic globalization and cooperated with it, even they are beginning to recognize its catastrophic consequences. Argentina's paper economy has collapsed as a result of the government's following the teaching of standard economic theory too faithfully. Brazil has elected a president who will not succumb to U.S. pressures. I think there is a chance that South America is ready to turn a corner and build its economy on other principles. It seems to be organizing itself to resist U.S. pressure to go further along the lines of free trade and so-called "liberalization" by refusing to sign onto the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas in anything like its present form.

There are stirrings of resistance in East Asia as well. East Asia developed successfully around national economies, just as did the United States and most European countries. Pressures from the Washington Consensus, led by the United States, pushed them in a globalizing direction, with disastrous results in Southeast Asia and South Korea. They may be learning their lesson.

All of this is not to say that a better world will in fact emerge from the decay of the modernist global economy. It is to say that a better world is possible. In a context in which such a possibility is emerging, those who care about the common good of the whole world have every reason to work at many levels. One of these is the theoretical

one. It is not wise for postmodernists to discourage that kind of work.