Cloning — Has Dominion Gone Too Far?

I

Not many years ago, the theme of "creation of life" would have suggested a discussion of the evolutionary process that brought life into being on this planet or of God's act of creation. Even when I was asked to speak on this topic for this conference, I felt the need to check to see whether something of that sort was in view. But because cloning had been in the news, I suspected that we were to discuss the human creation of living things, and I was correct. We are in a new era of creation, and there is no question but that we need to discuss it!

According to normal academic standards, the correct response on my part would have been to decline. Academicians are not supposed to talk on matters outside their field, and I can assure you that I do not have any competence on this topic. But I decided some years ago that I will not let a little matter like ignorance stop me unless I am sure there are plenty of better-informed people who are really ready to address the question from the perspective of faith. If, as I think, few of us are well qualified to speak on the topic of cloning, then some of us who are not well qualified should speak anyway. Let me explain.

Cloning is one of those "ethical" issues that cannot be dealt with simply at the ethical level. These issues are theological rather than ethical, or, if that seems to exclude their consideration outside Christian circles, they are matters of worldview. Furthermore, worldviews are inherently religious in the sense that they shape attitudes with respect to matters of ultimate concern and are shaped by those concerns.

Unfortunately, this does not mean that we can simply turn to a group of scholars who are worldview experts for help on these matters. There is no such group. During the twentieth century, issues of worldview, partly because they are religious, have been systematically excluded from our educational system. Philosophy was the discipline within which they were long considered, but in this century philosophy redefined itself as analytic so as to avoid such speculative questions and religious associations.

There was a brief period in which it seemed that the emergence in universities of departments of religion opened the door for fresh reflection as to how we should view our world overall. But, for the most part, teachers in these departments wished to emulate the general ideal of the university and eschew such questions. The questions have survived only in some courses in the history of religions, and in those the worldviews described are generally archaic ones that have not engaged modern science and technology.

This seems to provide an opening for the one location in which theology is professed: the theological seminaries. Here there is a whole profession of systematic theologians who, it seems, should be able to speak to the questions that technological progress now raises. Alas! It is not so. Most theologians, too, have tried to make themselves respectable in academic circles by eschewing issues of worldview. On the whole they are no better qualified than philosophers to address new issues posed by social change.

This is particularly striking in the great movement of theological renewal earlier in this century that we call neo-orthodoxy or neo-Reformation theology. Karl Barth and Emil Brunner begin their systematic theologies by announcing that theology is a "Wissenschaft", that is, an academic discipline with its distinctive, rather narrowly defined, subject matter and method. Cloning might be addressed from such a perspective, but since the perspective is one that has not interacted with the natural sciences and technology, it seems, at best, to provide only one more angle of vision upon the topic. Furthermore, as theology is defined by Barth, its contribution will have relevance only for Christian believers.

During the subsequent period, theology has become even more narrowly defined. In the United States we have separated theology from ethics, leaving to ethicists questions of the relevance of faith to issues arising in the actual course of history. Cloning appears to be one of these issues, but I began this excursus by asserting that cloning is not an issue that can be dealt with at the level of ethics.

Ethics presupposes a basic way of viewing matters. For example, if one has a worldview that asserts the equal worth of all human beings and that the remainder of the creation exists for their sake, an ethicist can proceed to guide thinking with respect to the right distribution of goods. Ethicists can discuss whether a deontological or utilitarian approach better guides this distribution.

But if someone challenges the worldview, the response cannot be at the level of ethics. For example, if the critic rejects the notion that other creatures exist for the sake of human beings and calls for human beings to adjust their lives so as to avoid encroaching on the habitat of other species, ethicists operating with the worldview identified above are in poor position to respond as ethicists. The issue is about their presupposed worldview, and should be taken up at that level. Of course, some people who identify themselves as ethicists may be highly articulate about issues of worldview, but they are then functioning outside their academic specialty of ethics.

 

II

When I say that cloning is a theological issue, I am understanding "theology" in a way that is in some tension with the academic definition. By Christian theology I mean reflection about important questions that is intentionally Christian. These include such questions as those about God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, the church, human nature, law, grace, and salvation that are typically the topics of systematic theology.

But they also include questions about the social, political, and economic order in which we live and about how we relate to the natural world. They certainly include questions about technology and its application both to inanimate things and in biology. The delimitation of theology, as I understand the term, is not in the topics it considers but in the point of view from which it considers them. Furthermore, it is not a detached inquiry into what others have believed, but an activity of believers who want to think and act rightly, as believers, in a bewildering world.

This definition of theology is continuous with the way it has been understood through most of Christian history. Augustine, Anselm, and Thomas thought of theology in this way, as did the Reformers. It is the modern university that has introduced the objectifying approach. And although much is learned in that way, and modern scholarship is certainly not to be discontinued, the dominance of this style outside quite conservative circles also entails a great loss of ability to bring the faith creatively to bear on the most urgent issues of our time.

There are Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and others who are engaged in parallel reflection out of their overlapping, but different, convictions. Whether this kind of thinking on their part is best called "theology" is for them to decide. But with whatever label, it is the kind of thinking that we need as we deal with such issues as cloning.

This still omits many of those who have the most to contribute. Much theology, in the sense of reflecting about important issues out of deep convictions and commitments, is by persons who do not find themselves rooted in any of the traditional religious communities. Their convictions and commitments may be shaped by their devotion to the needs of an oppressed people, such as American blacks. Or they may be committed feminists or deep ecologists. Their contributions to the current theological discussion are rich indeed.

Nevertheless, my own approach is as a Christian believer. I am one who has taught theology in a fairly conventional academic way but who has been increasingly convinced of the inadequacy of academic theology to the needs of individuals, churches, and society at large. Hence I have redefined theology, or, more accurately, I have argued for the recovery of the classical understanding of its nature and role. It is because I have reclaimed this role, that I take the risk of speaking and writing about topics which fall outside all of the academic disciplines.

I have come increasingly to the conclusion that this is the case with most of the most important issues we now face as human beings. I am making this long introduction to my comments because I hope to entice others away from the disciplinary approach to theology and into intentionally Christian reflection that selects its topics on the basis of their importance.

III

The Christian voice needs to be heard on the difficult issues we face, even if it does not speak with much confidence. But there is also danger that it will speak crudely on the basis of seizing some past teaching and deriving answers for today uncritically. We need a community of Christian thinkers who will discuss difficult new questions with each other and with the wider public not in order to score points but to advance toward an understanding of how Christians can understand God's purposes.

Without a community of discussants, supposedly theological approaches may do more harm than good. This may, of course, be true of my own idiosyncratic observations. It is often true of the appeal to traditional natural law theory to settle issues with regard to sexuality, population control, and physician-assisted suicide. Principles that made sense at the time they were promulgated are absolutized and imposed from without on circumstances to which they are not truly applicable. This is not the theological reflection we need.

With regard to cloning, for example, some Christians appeal to a particular traditional doctrine about the human soul. They hold that it is a supernatural creation of God that must elude humanly created beings. In this approach, the creation of animals by cloning poses no problem, since ethical and theological questions have application only in the sphere of human souls. For those who take this approach, the question arises only with human cloning and asks whether the clone has a supernatural soul. If so, she or he must be treated as a full human being. But if God does not in fact infuse a supernatural soul in a cloned human being, then that being would not truly be human at all.

This way of thinking has little Biblical basis. It derives from a metaphysical position heavily influenced by the Platonic tradition and carried over into modernity through Descartes. The problems with its dualism between the human soul and everything else have been elaborated by many philosophers and theologians. I mention it only to illustrate the wrong way of bringing theology to bear on a contemporary problem of this sort.

It is wrong because its understanding of what constitutes human beings is disconnected from the real world. In the real world, there is no question but that a sheep produced by cloning is a real sheep. Similarly, there is every reason to believe that the human clone would be as fully human as the one who is cloned. They would be like identical twins except for their difference in age. And identical twins are as fully ensouled as anyone else.

This fact that a human clone would be a fully human being poses a problem for the cloners. Apparently one justification for cloning humans is to have a store of organs with which we can replace those in the cloned person that are damaged. But if the clone is just as human as the one who has been cloned, removing her or his organs for this purpose could not be tolerated.

A solution now being proposed accents this purpose. Most of the organs wanted for transplants do not come from the head. If there is no head, then there is no person. Hence, we could create clones who are like the ones who are cloned in all respects except that they are headless. To remove their organs, even if this involved their death, would not constitute injury to a human person.

The result would be a boon to those who need the organs. Their lives would be extended. No human being would be injured. Would not this be great progress in the field of medicine! Is it not, therefore, moral? Indeed, if it can be done, is it not morally required that it actually be done?

At the level of ethics certain critical questions can be asked before assent is given to these proposals. Could the resources that would have to be devoted to perfecting this technology and producing and maintaining all these partial clones be better spent in some other way? Also, without major social intervention, the rich will benefit far more from this advance than the poor. Is this acceptable, or should society devise some other method for distributing benefits? Would knowledge of all these quasi-human clones lead to loss of our appreciation for human preciousness?

These are good questions. But they do not go to the heart of the issue as to whether, as Christians, we can support these astonishing developments in biotechnology. The issue is not whether these advances violate moral principles. The issue is whether they are appropriate to the human vocation.

 

IV

So how are we as contemporary Christians to understand what God calls us to be and do in this situation of marvelously expanded capabilities? There are many ways we could go with this question, but one seems particularly important for the topic at hand. Are we called to acknowledge our creatureliness, to accept God's rule, and to adjust ourselves to what that rule brings? Or are we to assert dominion over all creation, including ourselves, to make full use of the talents God has given us, and to become creators of a new world?

There is much in the Bible and in the tradition to support either answer. And much is ambiguous. The stories of creation and fall can cut either way. Initially, the creation story seems to support the claim to dominion. It differs from many other myths of creation by its accent on humans having dominion over other creatures and subduing them. Few would claim that cloning was in view when these verses were written, but this is simply an extension of human practices of control over domestic animals and even over human bodies that seem to express the dominion God gave us.

But if we look more carefully, it is not at all clear that in the Genesis account even the domestication of animals is included in "dominion", much less their genetic alteration and creation to serve our economic needs better. In this story, domestication begins after the fall. Further, most domestication is for the sake of meat-eating, but in the first chapter of Genesis, human beings along with other animals are authorized to eat only vegetation. It is not until after the flood that the eating of animals was expressly authorized.

Indeed, human dominion may not have meant exploitation at all! Since it is an expression of being created in the image of God, it may have meant that the human relation to other creatures should be like that of God to creation -- one of care and support. Since the command to be fruitful and multiply is given not only to human beings but to other animal species as well, destroying their habitat may not be an acceptable expression of dominion.

The story of the fall, on the other hand, seems to emphasize limits and the negative consequences of violating them. It focuses on seeking the knowledge of good and evil as contrary to the divine command. Such knowledge is viewed as incompatible with life in the idyllic garden. Its attainment throws humanity into the world of work, of suffering, of evil, and of redemption. God's purpose was that humanity remain innocent.

On the other hand, those who told this story and were shaped by it posited as the goal not a return to the garden but, instead, the redemption that is possible for sinful human beings. Especially by the Jews, but more broadly in Christendom as well, that redemption is sought through increasing the knowledge of good and evil. This quest has been extended to all knowledge; so that now we seek the salvation of the world through science and technology.

In remarkable ways, therefore, neither Jews nor Christians have read the story of the Fall as a reason for restricting human initiative and creative agency. Some Christians have even regarded it as a fortunate event in that it prepares the way for a redemption in Christ that leads to a destiny superior to the innocence of the Garden. Like the story of creation, it is ambiguous in its message with regard to the question at hand.

The story that most clearly teaches God's opposition to human beings' excessive hybris is that of the Tower of Babel. According to that story, humans were intent on building a tower that would reach the heavens. God introduced into their midst the confusion of many languages that ended their ability to work together. Yet here, too, Christians have not supposed that they should restrict their efforts to communicate across linguistic boundaries or to work together with people of various cultures.

The two themes of human limits and of human responsibilities pervade the Bible and the subsequent tradition. With respect to the former, we have a strong emphasis on the great difference between human beings and God their Creator. Human beings are not God. We are mortal and weak in contrast with God's immortality and strength. No sin is worse than forgetting our creatureliness and deluding ourselves into a view of our own divinity.

In more recent times what is to be avoided has been formulated in terms of "playing God." In the face of new human capabilites we often hear the criticism that they should not be exercised because to do so would be to play God. A physician is told not to play God with human life by ending it, even if the suffering patient begs for assistance in doing so. But the definition of the roles to be left to God becomes increasingly fuzzy as human capacity to play new roles grows and is used in ways that people appreciate.

On the other side, the Bible is full of commands to people to do justice and to carry out particular tasks. It is assumed that human beings are capable of doing much of what needs to be done. They are scolded or punished for failure to act rightly, but they are rarely punished for taking action as such. It seems that human initiative and action are strongly favored as long as they fulfil God's purposes.

Those who fear "playing God" today will certainly be critical of advancing our ability to clone and moving toward mass production of clones. This fear will be particularly strong when the cloning is of human beings, with or without heads. If anything intrudes too far into the divine prerogative, it would seem to be the human creation of human beings.

On the other hand, those who take their cue from the granting of dominion and from the many other passages in which we are encouraged to act for human betterment will see all of this as a consummation of a long process. With such powers we will be able to win further battles against hunger and disease and death. In the view of Christian supporters, we will move closer to the Kingdom of God.

V

If we stop here, we will only demonstrate again that on most important issues Christians, like others, are divided. We can use our scriptures and our traditions to support either side. Something other than our faith seems determinative. We cannot provide much Christian guidance.

Can we do better? I think we can, although "better" may still not be good enough. I propose two tasks and will devote the remainder of this paper to them. First, we can join with others in asking whether our vast expansion of human dominion in recent centuries has led to real improvements. Second, we can inquire whether there is a deeper Biblical theme that might provide more helpful guidance.

First, then, how proud can we be of our past extensions of dominion in field after field. Let us consider three examples: control of matter, control of social order, and control of the human body. If we judge that in these areas our dominion has improved the world, we have reason to be hopeful about the further extension of dominion now to the creation of living things.

Christian faith, especially as it was developed in Western Europe, led to careful observation, mathematical interpretation of data, and experiment. In this matrix modern science was born. This science vastly extended human dominion over the natural world, first in terms of theoretical grasp and then, also, through its alliance with technology, in actual control of physical processes.

This advance has transformed the surface of the Earth. It has made possible a vastly increased human population with hundreds of millions of people enjoying a standard of living undreamed of in earlier centuries. Many of us now experience a hitherto unparalleled degree of personal security and comfort.

On the other hand, our increased domination of the natural world has now brought us to a situation of global danger. Population is pressing on resource limits as never before. The weather is being affected in ways that will adversely affect the future. Poisons and wastes are accumulating at a disturbing rate. Habitat for other creatures is disappearing. Science and technology continue to solve many of the problems that arise, but the shift from a natural to an artificial world makes us ever more dependent on new technological breakthroughs about whose occurrence we can be less confident. Already deleterious changes are occurring that seem virtually irreversible.

Equally impressive as the increasing domination of the physical world is the human decision to control the social world as well. Of course, human beings have always acted to improve their individual and communal situations. But they have done so within social contexts that they experienced as given. Only since the end of the eighteenth century have they supposed that the social order is subject to intelligent human control. This has led to a series of social experiments.

Of these the first was the French Revolution. The greatest has been Communist restructuring in many countries but especially in the Russian Empire and in China. Most people in this country probably underestimate the positive elements in these social experiments, and many suppose that it is better to let the course of events bring about many small incremental changes rather than to try to re-engineer society all at once. So the judgment about taking dominion over society in this way is likely to be negative.

We should realize, however, that we are currently involved in another social experiment on a vaster scale than any of these. This is the experiment of subordinating all other aspects of society to the economic order. We are engaged in constructing a global market in which capital and goods flow freely everywhere. This market has contributed to the prosperity in which so many throughout the world participate. It has contributed also to the absence of war between major nations that has characterized the past fifty years.

Before rejecting social engineering, we need to evaluate this most impressive and successful of all such projects. It has taken place with a minimum of violence by gaining the support at least of elites in most countries of the world. It leaves people free to make their own decisions in many areas of their lives and even promotes democratic institutions in most places.

But here, too, there are profound ambiguities. The global market makes the protection of natural resources more difficult and the accompanying prosperity speeds their exhaustion. It destroys traditional communities and inhibits the emergence of new ones. Crime and substance abuse increase rapidly. It concentrates wealth in fewer and fewer hands and leaves many, more destitute and hopeless than before. By making wealth the primary goal of life, it undercuts traditional morality. It turns out those who succeed in their pursuit of wealth are left hungry for something different.

The third of my examples, increasing control over the human body is the one most directly related to the issues of cloning we face today. Although it has roots in earlier history, most of the most remarkable advances have been in the past hundred and fifty years. Through elimination of some diseases and control of many others, life expectancy has been greatly extended. Chemical treatment of psychological problems is as widespread as that of physical ones. Organ transplants are also saving many lives. Medical science can now nurture life both inside and outside the womb. All of us expect far more of doctors than we did even a few decades ago.

But there are ambiguities here, too. We have been far more successful in keeping people alive than in restricting the number of births, so that medicine has contributed greatly to the population explosion that threatens to engulf us all. Chemical control of psychological moods is continuous with increasing rates of addiction. Meanwhile there are indications that the mututation of bacteria in response to the use of anti-biotics is faster than the development of new drugs, and new diseases are developing for which cures are still more difficult to find. Dominion over disease may prove elusive after all.

In our market-driven global society, the motive force for medical developments shifts from healing to profit. High tech healing is too expensive to make available to all. Globally speaking it becomes one more prerogative of the rich.

Furthemore, a new problem develops. Whereas in the past death was the almost universal enemy because it usually came prematurely, now what many most dread is prolonged biological existence after life becomes meaningless or miserable. In an overpopulated world in which hundreds of millions of children are cared for very inadequately, the pursuit of still more ways to prolong life, even of those who prefer to die, seems counterproductive.

Whether we focus on human dominion over the physical world, over society, or over our own bodies, we must conclude that its consequences are ambiguous at best. Together they have reversed the relation between nature and artifice. Whereas two hundred years ago nature provided the context within which artifice did its work, today the artificial world is the context within which some patches of wilderness are allowed.

Whereas nature had attained over hundreds of millions of years great resilience in response to disturbances and catastrophes, the artificial world is far more fragile. Whereas the great diversities of ecosystems in the natural world insured that some would survive and spread if others were lost, the enormous simplifications introduced by human domination undercut this strength. It is hard not to foresee human dominion leading to catastrophes of unprecedented proportions.

VI

The conclusion from all of this seems to be that we humans have pressed our dominion too far. We have ignored its ambiguity in the Bible. Like the builders of the tower of Babel we are exceeding acceptable limits. It seems that we need to draw some boundaries and stay within them. Perhaps one of these boundaries should stop us before we proceed further with cloning.

But this is not an adequate Christian response. It sounds too arbitrary. It seems to say that the way we have exercised dominion is fine up to a certain point but that when that point is reached it should be stopped.

I would argue instead that in the Biblical story dominion was given to an unfallen humanity and that it has been exercised by a fallen one. It is because dominion has been exercised by sinful people that it has been so destructive and threatening in its outcome. It has become a demonic power operating with huge momentum and built into the social fabric and into our individual psyches. The drive to dominion is part of the principalities and powers that rule this world.

More concretely, what does this mean? Dominion means, of course, human control. Human control shapes events to ends envisioned as desirable by those who shape them. In the worst circumstances, and these are quite common, the intended end is the advantage of one group over others. But even in the best circumstances, when the common good is honestly sought, this is identified with the ends projected by one group of people, a group which inevitably has specialized interests.

A healthy dominion would be informed by wisdom. Wisdom views matters in broad horizons envisioning the network of consequences that follow from action and also recognizing the narrow limits of the human ability to do this. It sees that there is risk involved in action. This does not prevent action, since there may be greater risk in inaction. But it does not allow the pursuit of dominion to become an end in itself. Nor does it suppose that some one goal such as the extension of the lives of some human individuals can by itself justify the expansion of dominion.

Wisdom does not allow any settled goal to remain unchanged as new experience and additional information become available. It is self-critical and sensitive to the results of past actions. It avoids actions that foreclose changes of direction. It tries to build on what has been achieved rather than to destroy it for the sake of something supposed to be better.

Wisdom is a practical virtue. It is also theological. Feminists are helping us to recover its importance in the Bible. We remember that for Paul it is the divine Wisdom that is incarnate in Jesus and how this overturns the supposed wisdom of this world. What is truly wise we see in Jesus rather than in our universities.

This means that true wisdom is of God. We cannot attain it by human effort. We are made wise by grace. This happens only as we are transformed from our striving after narrow goals and purposes and become open to the service of God. It happens only as we allow God to shape our thinking.

This emphasis on grace changes the nature of the discussion of dominion and limits. The latter discussion depicts us as fully autonomous beings to whom God is external. It implies that God creates us and gives us certain certain limits as well as prerogatives and responsibilities. The task, then is to balance the challenge to act and the limits placed on action.

If, instead, we understand that God works within us as well, so that our actions can be directed, enabled, and empowered by grace, then the issue of challenge versus limits does not arise. To act as informed by divine wisdom is all that is required. This will not involve self-assertion or the sheer imposition of human will on other creatures. Nor will it require the renunciation of action in order to avoid going too far.

VII

Can we draw from these theological reflections any guidance about how to respond to the new possibilities of cloning, especially cloning human beings or human bodies? If what is wanted is a set of rules about what is permitted and what not, the answer is No. Paul's word is that "all things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial." (ICor.10:23) Cloning sheep and cloning human beings are lawful. Christianity does not provide a set of do's and don'ts that can be used to justify rules and limits.

But should we engage in this lawful behavior? Is it beneficial? That is a quite different question. Whether engaging in a particular form of lawful behavior is beneficial depends on time, place, and circumstance. In the specific context in which Paul made this distinction, his answer was No.

Since the vast expansion of dominion in recent centuries has been but little informed by wisdom, and since Christians have offered little guidance, it is quite difficult at this late date to bring a Christian voice effectively to the table. Perhaps, if we think about how informing our actions by Wisdom would have affected the way dominion was exercised in the past, this may be suggestive of what it would mean to introduce this different approach in the present.

I believe that human beings dedicated to acting wisely would have tried to envisage, again and again, the kind of society that would best correspond to God's purposes. Of course, they would have made mistakes in the past, and we will make mistakes in the present if we undertake this. But if those who engaged in this activity were open to the scriptures and to the present guidance of the Holy Spirit, I believe this would have led much of the time to testing proposals for extending dominion in terms of the effect on the poor and the weak. It would have led to retaining the natural world as the context within which human creativity is exercised and to exploiting nature's resources and sinks at a sustainable level. It would have led to incremental changes in society rather than radical social experimentation. It would have retained the subordination of wealth-seeking to other values. It would have directed medical science toward improvement of general health and family planning more than to the solution of the problems of those with rare diseases and the ability to pay for high-tech treatment.

The resulting world would be less technologically advanced than ours, but far less fragile; less wealthy, as we now measure wealth, but with far more persons living in healthy communities and protected against destitution. There would be lots of science and technology, but it would be engaged in solving those problems identified by the society as important rather than simply extending human power over the world and human beings.

It is unlikely that in that world cloning would now be an issue. But in this world it is. And in particular human cloning presses itself upon an unprepared human conscience. Among all of our urgent needs, increasing an already excessive human population through cloning hardly seems a pressing goal! Furthermore, it goes deeply against the grain of many people. Although our sense of respect for nature's way of doing things has been eroded dramatically over the centuries, it is not gone. Cloning of human beings seems an act of almost ultimate hybris.

My hope is not that we pass laws against a few egregious expressions of human dominion exercised almost as an end in itself. My hope is that this new possibility will be an occasion for deeper reflection, especially among Christians, as to the nature of the dominion we have received from God and how it should be exercised. Perhaps, belatedly, it can lead us to think together about the kind of world God wants and how our enormous capacities for controlling the physical world, the social order, and our own bodies can be placed in the service of that world.

If this happened, it might lead to seeking legislation against the cloning of human beings and restricting cloning in general. But that is not the fruit for which I most hope. The goal would be to influence society to redirect the natural and social sciences, and especially economics, to the service of the wellbeing of all creatures, especially human beings, understood broadly and deeply. We would need to develop institutions that could provide guidance to the scientists and technologists as to how to do this.

I am under no illusion that this would be easy. The dominant ethos is one of extending dominion for its own sake. If it is restricted in one country, we are told, the necessary expansion of science and technology will take place elsewhere, giving to some other country a competitive advantage in the global market. No doubt this is true. It is one more reason for critiquing the global market. Christians cannot allow competitive advantage in the global market to become the final arbiter of proposed policies. The time for resistance is here.

We are also reminded that a vast number of technological advances have military uses. I suppose that making numerous clones from a few people especially adapted to the needs of today's armed forces could provide a superior army. Accordingly, the possibility that some other nation will exploit this possibility before we do becomes a justification for directing vast resources to getting there first.

During the Cold War many Christians felt silenced by this kind of argument. This was probably a mistake even then. But today, we must not be intimidated in this way. There are no high-tech threats to our military dominance. Whether it is desirable that one nation exercise such dominance is another question, one quite relevant to any attempt to envision God's purposes for the planet. But at least this concentration of power undercuts a major argument for directing technological skills away from urgent human needs.

Do we as Christians have the energy and will to engage the challenge of our time? Can we work together, not for the establishment of a set of rules and limits restricting technological developments, but to give positive direction to research? Are we willing to be guided by God's Wisdom so as to mediate some portions of that Wisdom to a society that is desperately lacking in vision? If we are, we can contribute helpfully to the public conversation of our time.

Can the Church Help God Save the World?

I. Unpacking the Title

Titles are too brief to state clearly the topic of an essay or lecture. This one needs some unpacking. I will start with the end.

1. What is "the world?" Sometimes by world the entire universe is indicated. So far as I know the universe as a whole is in no imminent danger. It does not need saving. Or if it needs saving, that would be from the eventual consequences of entropy many billions of years from now. I doubt that God can save the world from that, and I am quite sure the church cannot help God to do so.

So by "the world" I intend something much more limited. I am referring to the planet Earth, and I often simply speak of the Earth. That, too, has its ambiguities. If we think of the planet in astronomic terms, it is in no special danger that we know of. If it is in danger of being destroyed by impact with a comet, or something of that sort, there is very little the church can do about it.

When we think of the Earth as in danger, we are thinking of a very thin layer on its surface. The planet will survive without it, but it is this thin layer of life on its surface that makes this planet so extraordinary, so precious. Human activity has damaged this biosphere severely already, and it threatens still more harm. It is the Earth as this living system that I have in view in the title.

Even this is not quite sufficient to clarify my meaning. When I speak of the world here, I mean to focus on the biosphere in a special way, one that some might call anthropocentric. Whereas sometimes the Earth and its biosphere are set over against humanity and its creations, I mean to include, and even accent the latter. The world of which I speak in the title is primarily the human world understood to be immersed in and inseparable from the biosphere as a whole. This does not mean that the other species with which we jointly make up the biosphere are not fully a part of the world. Their fate is important even apart from how humans are impacted by it. But the fate of the human species is foremost in my thinking. If saving the biosphere involved the extinction of the human species, that would not save the world I have in mind.

2. What, then, does it mean to "save" the world? The main problem here is that in Christian theology, in distinction from the Bible itself, "salvation" has become a kind of absolute. It is supposed that once salvation has occurred, all problems are solved, at least, all real and ultimate problems. It is assumed that there is some one all-pervasive ill from which we must be saved. This may be Hell after death or the burden of guilt here and now. In a different Christian tradition it may be social injustice and oppression.

In ordinary discourse today, and in the Bible as well, "salvation" refers to the avoidance of diverse ills. One who is drowning may be saved by a lifeguard. A bank may be saved from failing by governmental intervention. A city may be saved from destruction when a war ends before a planned bombing occurs. A species may be saved from extinction by careful management or preservation of habitat.

None of this means that there will not be further problems, further need of salvation. Indeed, the same problem may recur, and next time there may be no salvation. But this lack of finality does not minimize the importance of salvation now. Although one will eventually die, one whose life is saved now lives on and can do and be many things -- good or evil. Similarly a bank, or a city, or a species may employ its new lease on life in may ways. The term "salvation" should not be used in contexts where the problem that is overcome is trivial, but it should certainly not be limited to some final solution.

To speak of the salvation of the world assumes that the world needs saving. Of this I am fully convinced. We could spend all our time this morning describing the more serious ills that beset the human species as it is intricately involved in the biosphere. For my purposes here it will suffice to say that the dominant forces governing human behavior on the Earth today are driving events in a direction that cannot continue indefinitely. Human use of resources and pollution of the environment accelerates while the ability of the Earth to withstand such treatment declines. Unless we change course, catastrophe lies before us as physical limits are crossed.

Even more pressing, perhaps, are social problems. The same organization of the world for maximum production that is destroying the capacity of the Earth to sustain a large human population is also destroying all natural systems of human relationships. It is not only ecosystems but also human societies that have become fragile. Since the economic system also concentrates wealth and power in fewer and fewer hands and excludes the majority from participation even in its material benefits, it generates enormous suffering. The condition of many of the poor of the world is already a catastrophe. When the illusory hopes that the poor will eventually come to share in the spoils evaporate, there is danger of another form of catastrophe.

Seeing our world in such terms, I do indeed believe it is in need of saving. It cannot be saved from all catastrophes. Eco-social catastrophes are already occurring in Central America and parts of Africa, in East Timor and Kosovo, and others are inevitable. But there remains the possibility, though not the probability, that the occurrence of such local catastrophes will lead to change of direction before a far more comprehensive and consuming one occurs.

Even at best, the changed direction will not lead to an ideal world. Far from it. But it may lead to a livable one in which starvation and pestilence and genocide, the rapid extinction of species, and others of the most appalling evils of our own time will not be so prominent. That is the salvation of the world of which I am speaking.

3. The title speaks of "helping God" to save the world. That phrase contains many assumptions. On the one hand, it assumes that God does not act apart from creatures. That means that it rejects the apocalyptic themes in some Biblical writings or reinterprets them in prophetic form. It assumes that the long tradition of attributing omnipotence to God is erroneous, that God does not have a monopoly on power. What happens does not depend on God's aims alone. We cannot think of ourselves as observers watching what God is doing or waiting for God to act. We would wait and watch in vain. In the words of a ditty I learned as a teenager, God has no hands but our hands.

The phrase also assumes that God is not a creature of our imagination or language. It is a meaningless phrase unless there really is an activity in the world that transcends that of human beings. We are part of an order that is always being created. Among all the forces and powers that impinge on us, one is genuinely creative and trustworthy. For creatures to relate rightly to that activity is crucial if the world is to be saved.

The phrase also implies that God, rather than creatures, remains the primary actor in the dramas of salvation. It is not as though God had created us and then turned all responsibility over to us. The only locus of God's actions is in and through us creatures, for God does not act as one being alongside others. But God is the one who liberates, energizes, enlivens, and inspires us. Without that enspiriting presence we could do nothing, or at least we could do nothing salvific.

To speak of our helping God points to a still more specific way of thinking of how God works in and through creatures. One way of approaching this relationship is captured in the phrase: "let go and let God." This rightly points to openness to God's working through us, and there is indeed much of which we must let go if we are to be effective in helping God. But it wrongly implies that God works through us best when we are passive. In the extreme case, it suggests religious phenomena in which one enters a trance state in order that the divine Spirit may take over one's vocal cords and muscles. The Bible does not deny such occurrences or disparage them, but it does not hold them up as normative.

The more appropriate stance is one of active listening and responding to God's call. It is a stance of trusting that makes us available to the Spirit. We are willing to participate, even at some personal cost, in those projects to which we find ourselves called. We believe that when we do so there may be unforeseen, even unforeseeable outcomes that can be used to further God's purposes. But whether these occur is not decisive for our response.

4. So far I have spoken of creatures helping God to save the world. Obviously the creatures I have in mind especially are human ones. But the title speaks not of creatures in general but of one creation in particular -- the church. The remainder of this speech will be about the church. But it is important to emphasize that the possibility that the church may help God to save the world in no way implies that God does not need, and may not receive, the support of other communities, traditions, institutions, and, of course, individuals.

Indeed, even that formulation is misleading. It may be that the church's role will be much smaller than that of others. Perhaps Muslims or Buddhists will help God more than Christians. Perhaps it will be governments, universities, nongovernmental organizations, or a new political party that will lead the way. Those of us within the church know all too painfully the limits of its capacities, and we must hope eagerly that others are more ready to help God save the world than are we.

If the world is saved from global catastrophe it will be because many help God to save it, whether they see any role for God or not. God works through unbelievers as well as believers and through many types of believers. Sometimes the institutionalization of Christian belief may constitute the greatest obstacle for God to overcome.

But with all these qualifications about the limits of the church's possible help, I am convinced that its contribution is also important. It would be too much to say that it is indispensable. God works in mysterious ways that we cannot foresee. But it is my conviction that the church has a distinctive contribution to make, one that no other institution is able to make, and if the church fails to make its contribution, the chances of the world's salvation decline.

The church, too, can be thought of in many ways. Some think of a mystical body only partly realized in any earthly form. Others speak of a very specific institution or set of institutions. Some prefer to identify the church as the people of God or the community of believers, rendering its institutional expression secondary. Recently Christianity has been identified as a cultural-linguistic system embodied and promoted in the church as institution.

My own preference is to think of the church as the ever changing, and always needed, institutional expression of a socio-historical movement generated by the Christ event. My primary interest is in that movement rather than in its institutional expressions as such. But the institutions are crucial to the movement, and the health of the movement depends on how they serve it.

The focus of the movement changes through history. Sometimes the aim is primarily to create on earth a redemptive community of persons who love and serve God. Sometimes it interprets the needs to which it addresses itself in individualistic and otherworldly ways. Sometimes it seeks to extend its influence around the world. Sometimes it is content to turn inward. Sometimes it allies itself with political power to enforce its values. Sometimes it functions as a movement of protest against the powers that be. Sometimes it becomes little more than a transmitter of whatever values it finds in a culture.

Every form the movement has taken in history has been ambiguous. Sometimes it learns well from its mistakes and eschews them in future. Sometimes it does not learn and continues to repeat those mistakes.

Thus when I speak of the Christian movement I speak of a very ambiguous phenomenon in human history. My personal judgment is that it has done greater good and greater evil than any other historical movement. It continues to do both. To be a part of that movement, as I am, calls for repentance as much as for celebration. It calls for efforts to direct the energies of the movement into healing and saving channels.

To do so is to be faithful to the basic impulses of the movement. The movement retains its integrity through all manner of changes through its recurrence to its history and especially to the Christ event. This does not prevent distortions of all kinds, but it does point us to God's active and effective incarnation in the world and to God's saving purposes for the world. It calls us to participate in the working out of those purposes.

The church as the institutional expression of the movement shapes and governs most of its activities. It provides for the repeated reencounter of believers with the Biblical story and guides in its interpretation and in the determination of its current relevance. Typically the church is slow to adopt new insights that emerge here and there in the movement, but by the same token, it resists many of the most perverse errors. When it incorporates a commitment, it is usually able to direct far more sustained attention to it than would come from the less institutionalized parts of the movement alone.

5. Finally, there is the little word "can." Its meaning, I trust, is quite clear. I call attention only to the difference between "can" and "will." I am quite convinced that the church can help God save the world. I am much less sure that it will do so. But one contribution to the likelihood that it will do so is greater clarity about how it can.

II. Forming Attitudes

Probably the main influence of the church, one that can be malign or benign, is on the attitudes of people, especially its more active members. Attitudes are closely related with real beliefs, and these are in turn affected by, although not identical with, ostensible beliefs. But attitudes are also affected in less cognitive ways. Liturgy, for example, shapes attitudes in ways that are partly independent of its cognitive elements. For example, the fact that we learn to close our eyes when we pray affects attitudes toward God.

It is my belief, perhaps too optimistic, that in quite basic ways, the oldline Protestant denominations in this country are contributing positively to the attitudes that are now needed. My intention here is to point to some of those attitudes. If we are clearer about their importance, we may be able, with only modest adjustment of present practice, to do a better job of inculcating them. In Section III I will propose more daring hopes for how the church might help God save the world.

1. The church can, and normally does, promote the awareness of God. God can use those who do not believe, but there are distinctive contributions made by belief. Depending on the nature of the belief and associated attitudes, these can be positive or negative. They are negative, for example, when belief in God distracts attention from realistic appraisal of what is happening in the world or leads to the expectation that God will take care of matters independently of us.

But we are now looking for positive contributions. Awareness of God can help us dislocate ourselves from the center of everything. It can lead us toward a more realistic awareness of the reality and importance of other people in light of who and what they are for God. We may be able to attend more sensitively to the perspectives of others and modify our own accordingly. Awareness of God can encourage us to appreciate the greater appropriateness of seeking the common good rather than only our own and that of those closest to us.

Awareness of God can lead us from complacency to concern and from despair to hope. Both moves are necessary. We are not likely to help God save the world if we are complacent about its present condition and prospects. But if we despair, we will contribute nothing of value. If we are aware that we are not alone in our concern and efforts, we may be able both to face the reality honestly and to live with hope.

2. The church is beginning to help us take seriously the other creatures with whom we share the planet. Its official teaching has always included the idea that the God who created us created other creatures as well. Its sacred text informs us that before the creation of humans, and without regard to us, God saw that the other creatures were good. The text goes on to show, in the story of Noah, that God cared about the preservation of these other species.

In spite of all this, we confess that the Christian movement has been for most of its history so preoccupied with human affairs as to neglect and ignore the fate of other creatures. Indeed, matters have been worse. Many Christians, especially in the West, have claimed theological justification for brutal exploitation of other animals and unlimited appropriation of their habitat. We have treated concern about their suffering as sentimental.

Furthermore, Christian teaching in the nineteenth and early twentieth century, and especially among liberal Protestant theologians, accentuated the anthropocentric tendencies of the Western tradition. In influential theologies, "creation" was restricted to the existential relation of the believer to God. The rest of the world was excluded from Christian concern. In accommodation to the contemporary mindset, "God" is treated far more as a part of what humans have created than as our creator.

Nevertheless, the understanding of the whole world as creation has remained pervasive of the life of the church. In recent decades it has been effectively reemphaisized, and the World Council of Churches has affirmed the integrity of creation. Most of our denominations have formulated statements that take seriously the natural world as a sphere of God's creative activity and concern. There is little resistance to the renewal of this Biblical emphasis in our churches. To some extent our churches are now encouraging an attitude of concern about the other creatures with which we share the planet.

3. Approaching this topic from a Biblical perspective there is little danger that we will go too far in the celebration of the Earth. "Going too far," from a Biblical and Christian perspective, is any move that would direct attention away from the central importance of human beings and our collective achievements and destiny. To celebrate the natural in such a way as to disparage human artifacts would be "going too far".

The issue of just how to balance an appreciation of natural processes with an appreciation of human creativity is complex. I will not attempt to deal with it here. I will only say that I cannot imagine a salvation of the world in which human ingenuity and inventiveness fails to play a large role. Equally, I cannot imagine a salvation of the world in which respect for natural processes and their indispensable services to the whole biosphere is not a central human attitude. I believe that the church nurtures attitudes that are relatively well balanced in this respect.

There is an important role to be played by technological enthusiasts. There is an important role to be played by those who celebrate the lifestyle of our ancestors who were far closer to nature. The latter are needed in order to check the tendencies of the former to replace the natural world with an unsustainable and inhuman artificial one. The former are needed to remind us that with our present population even our most basic needs cannot be met unless we find technologically advanced ways of intensive production from a diminishing base. But to keep these groups working together instead of against one another we need a wider horizon of understanding and an accompanying attitude that deeply respects both. I am arguing that the church does help to generate that.

4. Another dangerous duality is present in our culture which the church's teaching can help to dispel. Some focus on individuals; others, on systems. Among those who are concerned with our fellow creatures this shows up in the tension between those who affirm the rights of individual animals and those who are concerned only with landscapes and ecosystems. Among those who are concerned with human wellbeing it shows up between those who believe each individual should be given an equal opportunity and those who see these individuals as parts of systems that prevent genuine equality of opportunity from being possible.

This tension is present throughout Christian history, hence it may be misleading so suppose that the church can help. But because both individualistic and systemic emphases have played so large a role, and because such serious mistakes have been made in both directions, there may be some accumulated wisdom in the church. Perhaps its standard teaching and practice can alleviate the duality.

The church can never fail to accent the distinctive importance of each person as a child of God. In this respect its teaching is inherently and inescapably individualistic. But the church can, and at its best does, understand these individual persons to be affected, in the depths of their being, by their relations with others. In Paul's words, we are members one of another. We are not self-contained individuals who are then incidentally and externally related to others. We are who and what we are as individuals by virtue of our relations to others.

It is important, then, to help each individual as an individual. But real help involves the healing of the communities of which that individual is a member. Jesus' certainly healed individual sick people and forgave them their sins. But his message was about a transformed world in which God's will would be done. In some way, however limited, the church aims to be a community of persons in which there is deep concern for each as an individual but which understands itself as a church to be not just the sum of those individuals but a community in which together we can be more than we are as individuals. Most of our efforts to help individuals within the church are mediated through our efforts to make the church as a whole a more faithful community and institution.

5. Much the same can be said of the duality of the present and the future. The church has often called for the sacrifice of the present to the future. In extreme cases, it has tortured persons to force them to make those confessions that the church supposed would open for them the gates of heaven! At other times, apocalypticists have justified slaughter and mayhem in the name of the coming of ultimate justice and righteousness.

Partly in reaction to such sacrifice of the present to the future, the church has often taught quiescent resignation to whatever is and sheer acceptance of the circumstances of the present. To live day by day in obedience to church teaching replaces hope for a transformed world. This may involve loving and serving one's oppressors.

Confronted by profound threats to the wellbeing of the world, the issue of how to relate present and future take on new urgency for us. We know that our day-by-day participation in this affluent, consumption-oriented, society embodies an unsustainable lifestyle that is exploiting hundreds of millions of workers around the world. We urgently need some vision of a future that will be, in comparison with this, more nearly just, participatory, and sustainable. It seems that we need to live in some way from that future instead of as prisoners of the present.

But living from a radically different future is also problematic. That future will be conceived as one in which people are more fully rooted in place, so that authentic community can grow among us. Yet to live from that very different future alienates us from our own place and our present human companionship. That future will be one of serene acceptance rather than constant efforts to change, but to live from it now seems to involve anxiety and intense work to reverse directions.

Does the church help us to find a way of being now that relates us healingly both to future and to present? I think so. It is the way of faith, hope, and love. Faith means trust in the present working of God and opening ourselves to respond to God's call. Hope means believing that there can be a better tomorrow and trying to understand both what that may be and how it challenges our lives in the present. Love means genuinely caring for all persons including those caught in the present, even when they are committed to a course of action that seems to us to make matters worse.

6. One of the deepest divides in our society is between those at the top who see reality comfortably from that point of view and those at the bottom whose experience is so different. The current official declarations of the wonderful success of the U.S. economy reflect the view from the top. Those who view it from the bottom experience an absolute decline in their wages. They have to work harder and harder to make it at all, while being assured that everything is great.

The view from the top is the one that determines public policy. It is a sincere view, in the sense that millions of people share it without question. Their personal experience fits it, and the media and their friends consistently reinforce it.

It would be far too much to say that the church effectively provides an alternative for most of its members. Most of those members, although far from all, share the view from the top. They can attend church regularly and be but little disturbed in that view.

Nevertheless, there is real possibility that the more serious members of the church be exposed to the tension between these two views. Church pronouncements typically take into account to some extent the experience of the poor and excluded. They are less celebrative than the general public of the economic success story that leaves out so many. Some sermons risk disturbing the complacency of church members on this topic. Study groups within the church occasionally grapple with questions of poverty and welfare. Volunteers who work with the poor sense that there is a reality that the top-down perspective obscures.

To whatever extent the church takes the Bible seriously, it must disturb the complacency of the top-down view. It must introduce the bottom-up view to challenge it. Without that challenge, the church will not help God save the world.

The bottom-up view, furthermore, must be more inclusive than the exclusively human one of which I have spoken. The bottom includes the other species whose habitat is daily reduced and the domesticated animals who are brutally treated so that our meat will be cheap and tender. Unless the church can sensitize us to their perspective as well, it will fail to communicate the attitude apart from which the needed changes are unlikely to occur.

III. Greater Challenges for the Church

Perhaps in what I have been saying, I have expected of the church more than it is likely to do. But my intention has been to stay close to its actual practice. I believe that on the whole the attitudes that our oldline Protestant churches in this country communicate are supportive of what we need. I want to lift them up and show how our heritage supports our inculcation of these attitudes in one another. I hope in this way to assure us that much of what we are doing is on the right track, easy though it is, in these respect as well, to end up in distortions.

But I believe the church is called to do much more. I am not optimistic that on any large scale it will respond to this call. But I am confident that here and there it will, and already does. These are always matters of more and less, not all or none.

The most obvious "more" to which the church is called is to act on the beliefs and attitudes that it inculcates. I had intended to propose at this point some of these actions. But I was not sure that I had much fresh wisdom to offer. And I have decided to devote what time I have left to the church's task of thinking rather than to its task of doing. I do so because this emphasis is so much rarer at the present time. I make two proposals.

1. I believe the church is called to think seriously about its beliefs and their implications. To do so would be revolutionary both for the church and for the world. I believe the revolution in question would help God save the world.

Calling the church to serious thinking runs deeply counter to the trends of the past half century or so. Our old-line Protestant churches have abandoned theology. We have decided that theology is a specialized academic discipline of no real relevance to congregational or denominational life.

Since we make no serious effort to think together about who or what God is and what implications God's reality has for our personal or ecclesial life, we depend more and more on a shared rhetoric that has little or no reference beyond itself. Individual Christians have varied ideas about what to expect from God and how to relate to God. But as congregations and denominations we simply agree to differ and not to disturb one another. Belief in God then becomes compatible with almost anything.

In recent decades society has organized itself for the increase of wealth as its supreme goal. Whereas different portions of society were formerly structured around diverse goals, now this one has triumphed. Whereas the political order once aimed at justice and community, it now serves the economy. Whereas education once aimed at producing citizens and leaders of society, it now aims to produce good workers and others who will be successful in the market. Whereas science one aimed to push back the frontiers of knowledge, it now serves industry. Whereas medicine once aimed at human health, it has been transformed into the medical industry.

A church that took God seriously could not stand quietly by while society as a whole engaged in such blatant and acknowledged worship of the increase in wealth, but this silent acquiescence is just what has happened. This is a point on which Jesus was very clear. You cannot serve both God and wealth. Yet in most congregations today, I doubt that many people even understand the problem. They have thought so little about God, or restricted that thinking to such narrow channels, that relating their belief in God to the actual social events of their time does not seem an appropriate activity.

If society continues to worship Wealth, it is hard to imagine how God can save the world. It is the worship of Wealth that leads to the extreme economic injustices of our time. The subordination of all other considerations to the aim at Wealth leads to the degradation of the natural world, the destruction of human communities, and the near elimination of justice as a public concern. Catastrophes already abound. Unless there is a change of course, they will grow greater and more inclusive.

But to whom can we look for a challenge to the Lordship of Wealth? Of course, there are individuals who protest, but thus far these voices have proved easy to ignore. The protests are usually in terms of some one value that is being slighted in the pursuit of wealth, and the response can be one of throwing a bit of the wealth at the solution of that problem. Protesters are often bought off. We need more institutional support and embodiment for the challenge to the new religion.

What about the university? Here we have a tremendous concentration of intelligent and highly educated people of good will. We provide a remarkable amount of freedom for them to pursue their research interests. We encourage them to view phenomena from many perspectives.

In relation to the enormous wealth, power, and resources of universities, I am personally shocked at how little these great institutions do to redirect society away from its present suicidal course. Of course, there are many wonderful exceptions. I am greatly indebted to university professors among others for what understanding I have of what is happening. But if we ask for the preponderant impact of the university on our society, we must acknowledge that overwhelmingly it supports the status quo and feeds it. It has been coopted into the service of wealth. It is far more part of the problem than part of the solution.

Weak and peripheral though the church is, it has still produced more relevant criticism of the dominant social direction of our time than has the university. The World Council of Churches has given leadership. When it gathers people to come up with a position paper on current economic issues, those who come have far fewer credentials than could be found in an analogous group gathered under university auspices. But the results are typically more challenging. Gathering under church auspices, and representing Christians from many parts of the world, leads to a kind of questioning rare among academics who assemble under academic auspices.

If theological reflection were renewed in the church, if serious lay people were encouraged to think about God and about the implications of belief in the God of the Bible, the church could and would find a far more effective voice. Silent acquiescence in the worship of Wealth would end. The self-evident rightness of that worship would be brought into question in the public arena.

2. You may regard the proposal that we renew thinking about God as a quite unrealistic fantasy. You may be right. I continue to hope, and here and there I see glimmers of change that fuel that hope.

But now I will confess to a hope that seems still more farfetched. Not only would I like to see the church challenge the worship of Wealth, I would also like to see it engage in critique of the theology that supports that worship.

Perhaps I should not use the word "theology" in this extended way. I could say "theory" or "ideology." But since the theory is presented authoritatively rather than as a tentative system of hypotheses, "theory" seems too weak, and "ideology," better. And since the ideology supports a deeply religious attitude and set of institutions, I incline to stick with "theology." I am referring, of course, to the economic doctrines that are taught in almost all the graduate economic departments of our major universities. I would like to see the church challenge the "theology" that directs the affairs of a society committed to the worship of Wealth.

Before pursuing this specific proposal, I want to broaden it. This broadening may make it still more unrealistic, even outrageous. But if I fail to do so, I may leave the impression that the currently dominant school of economics is a unique case of an ideology requiring Christian critique as bad theology. That is by no means my view. Neo-liberal economics may be the most important ideology taught by the university, because of the role it has been assigned by society. But every discipline in our university, operates out of assumptions that deserve critical examination.

Even those few who agree that such critical examination is desirable may regard my call to the church to engage in it as foolish. Surely such critical examination requires expertise in the field to which it is applied, and surely that is found in the university rather than the church! This is, certainly, partly true, and one can argue that academic disciplines should be left alone to engage in their own self-criticism. One can even point out that from time to time such self-criticism does take place. So why involve so suspect at institution as the church?

My answer is that the university does not encourage the needed critique of assumptions and that the experience and convictions of the church enable it to make a valuable contribution. I will spell out the argument in five points.

First, such self-criticism as occurs within an academic discipline is rarely very radical. Those who operate within that discipline normally subscribe to its most basic purposes and assumptions. They may go quite far in pointing out how those purposes are not well served by current practices, but as participants they have no leverage for asking about fundamental purposes and assumptions. Such questioning places them outside the bounds. Indeed, when they go too far, they usually find themselves denied a continuing role within the discipline. Thus, for example, when Herman Daly challenged the commitment of economic theory to promoting economic growth, he was for all practical purposes excommunicated from the guild.

Second, preparation for leadership in academic disciplines that claim to be scientific and rarely includes the kind of study that facilitates radical self-criticism. In most instances, even the history of a discipline is little studied. There is a strong tendency to take the present form as normal and normative. For example, the history of economics is little studied in departments of economics, the history of biology, in departments of biology, the history of corporations, in business schools. Historical consciousness opens the door to contrasting what is with what has been and, indirectly, with what might be. Without fostering that consciousness, the university discourages radical criticism.

Third, those disciplines in which self-criticism is better developed are unlikely to engage disciplines other than their own. In the humanities historical study is often prominent. In the study of literary criticism, for example, one may well study the history of literary criticism. As a result there is more likely to be a criticism of the assumptions of one generation of literary critics by the next. But it is unlikely that those trained in literary criticism will direct their attention to biology or economics or business.

Philosophy was once the discipline assigned the task of understanding the whole. It engaged, therefore, in analysis of assumptions generally and this could include those of other disciplines and institutions. However, philosophy in this country abandoned its synthetic and universal task in favor of identifying its own limited subject matter alongside that of other disciplines and developing methods for its study.

Fourth, where there are moves in the direction of assumption criticism, there is still need for much more. Philosophy, especially in its continental forms, resists being so narrowly enclosed. Post-structuralism raises questions that apply across the board, and it pursues these in many and fascinating ways. It challenges the complacency of the sciences as well as the humanities, but we still await sustained and systematic deconstruction of physics, biology, or economics.

The leaders in assumption-criticism have been feminists. This is because they have a clear positive agenda of a sort that cannot be identified for poststructural deconstructionists in general. Their positive insights enable them to see the distinctively patriarchal character of the assumptions underlying the sciences and social studies. Their challenge is a powerful one.

When I call on the church to engage in this critical task, I do not ask it to claim the field to itself. Where feminists have led the way, we should celebrate and promote their work. If deconstructionists will engage in this work, that too should be affirmed. All our current disciplines and institutions embody distortions that inhibit their helping God to save the world. All need criticism. There is so much to do that competing for the right to do it would be ridiculous.

Fifth, not only does assumption criticism need expansion, but Christians from the oldline Protestant denominations who take their faith seriously and thoughtfully are positioned to make important and distinctive contributions. I offer three reasons.

One, we are accustomed to a self-criticism of the church that goes far beyond that of any other institution. We are preoccupied with questions of fundamental assumptions and their validity. Our study of theology is primarily historical, and the historical methods we use are highly relativizing. We have paid a high price for this self-relativization, but we have not abandoned it. In short, assumption criticism is for us at the heart of our intellectual work.

Two, we tend to think that our beliefs need to be informed by what is known by others and that they have some relevance to what others should think. It is true that many of our leaders, especially in the neo-orthodox epoch, argued that theology was one academic discipline alongside others, much as philosophy had done. This meant abandoning the idea that our affirmations are dependent on what others learn and may contribute to them.

If we make that move, and many have, then the project to which I call the church cannot be pursued. But I am arguing that there are impulses within our movement that work against these fixed boundaries and push toward openness and influence. If we recognize that by breaking down boundaries we have a much better chance of helping God save the world, this may encourage us to do so.

Three, like feminists, we have positive convictions and commitments that sharpen our perception of the nature of the assumptions underlying other disciplines. For example, if we believe that God is at work in the world, we will be immediately aware of contrary assumptions when we study another discipline. If that discipline is set up to be self-enclosed so as to exclude the possibility of divine influence on those it studies, we can easily point this out. Of course, that does not prove that the assumption of self-enclosedness is wrong, but it opens up the possibility of reconsideration.

It would be interesting to pursue this point in relation to biology and especially its evolutionary theory, where the commitment to excluding any possible role for God has led to denying that creaturely purpose can influence evolutionary processes. The implications of this assumption are sometimes quite evidently counterfactual, but the way evolutionists cling to this assumption shows that it has religious importance for true believers.

However, it is time to return to economics. Here one may suppose there is a place for some kind of God in the invisible hand that turns universal selfishness into the instrument of the universal good. But Christians can rejoice that economists have learned to do without God at that point. The exclusion of the Christian God is clearest in economics at the point of limiting human behavior to rational behavior and defining that as self-interested behavior. What is excluded is any genuine interest in others or in the common good. Excluded also is any judgment that it is better to satisfy some desires rather than others.

Similarly, concern for justice or fairness is systematically excluded. As this anthropology increasingly displaces the Christian one, human behavior and public policy adapt to the new normative description. Also, the value of anything is necessarily only what some human being will pay for it in the market place. Hence the natural world exists only as resource and commodity for human use. The notion that something other than the satisfaction of a human desire could have value in itself, or for God, is systematically denied.

The exclusion of God is achieved by viewing human beings as wholly self-enclosed individuals. Along with the relation to God, the relation to other human beings is also excluded. Hence community counts for nothing. The destruction of human community in the pursuit of aggregate Wealth is affirmed and celebrated whatever the actual price in human suffering and in the degradation of the Earth.

Thoughtful Christians are in position to challenge these assumptions. To point them out and to note that there are other options against which no arguments have been given does not refute these assumptions. But it relativizes them. In doing so, in principle, it relativizes the devotion to Wealth to which these assumptions give rise and the theology that embodies and develops them. It suggests that society should reconsider the course of action to which total commitment to such doubtful assumptions give rise.

Christians can, of course, go farther. We can propose alternative assumptions more congenial to the best in our heritage. We can seek allies among adherents of other faiths, among deconstructionists, among feminists, among animal liberationsists, among environmentalists, among multiculturalists, among liberationists, and among humanists in formulating these assumptions and together point the directions in which a society based on these other assumptions would move. We can help God save the world. Perhaps we will.

Globalization With A Human Face

We now have a name for the dominant reality of the post-cold-war epoch: globalization. Thomas Friedman rightly describes globalization as an all-embracing phenomenon shaped by global capitalism. He approaches the topic in a remarkably comprehensive fashion, offering an overview of six no longer separable dimensions: politics, culture, technology, finance, national security and ecology

Friedman, a foreign-affairs columnist for the New York Times, has a very readable, journalistic style. Brilliantly selected anecdotes and personal reminiscences communicate what is going on around the world. Much of his account is neutral. He describes globalization and allows readers to respond favorably or unfavorably, to be excited or appalled. Whereas the cold war was fought over the views of Karl Marx and Geoffrey Keynes, "who each in his own way wanted to tame capitalism," the current era unleashes capitalism to perform its essential work of "creative destruction."

The speed by which your latest invention can be made obsolete or turned into a commodity is now lightning quick. Therefore, only the paranoid, only those who are constantly looking over their shoulders to see who is creating something new that will destroy them and then staying just one step ahead of them, will survive. Those countries that are most willing to let capitalism quickly destroy inefficient companies . . will thrive in the era of globalization.

Despite his awareness of many of the losses and dangers involved in globalization, Friedman communicates his excitement. His explicit account of his position is moderate:

I feel about globalization a lot like I feel about the dawn. Generally speaking, I think it is a good thing the sun comes up every morning. It does more good than harm. But even if I didn't much care for the dawn there isn't much I could do about it. I didn't start globalization, I can't stop it -- except at a huge cost to human development--and I'm not going to waste my time trying. All I want to think about is how I can get the best out of this new system, and cushion the worst, for the most people.

The analogy with the rising of the sun suggests inevitability -- a widely held perception about globalization. Yet many of Friedman's statements counter this view. One could draw from his account evidence that the global economy can easily be derailed. For example, he fears that if we do not adopt policies that ease the pain of globalization on displaced workers and others, the U.S. may become a society of "high walls and tinted windows."

One of the prerequisites for globalization is that the U.S. act as a relatively benevolent hegemon, willing to shoulder extra responsibilities and even give others a free ride. Friedman worries that most Americans do not support the kind of international policies required for America to perform this role. He points out that in the wake of the financial melt-downs in Southeast Asia and Russia, some economists were calling for slowing down the movement of global capital. Putting "sand in the gears" like this could bring the global economy "to a screeching, metal-bending halt." Friedman understands that most nations do not have the infrastructure or culture needed to participate in the global economy and may balk at making the necessary changes. But if major countries do this, the globalization project will fail.

Perhaps, then, globalization is more of a choice than his analogy with the dawn suggests. Perhaps there are real options, and Friedman's goal is to encourage us to choose globalization and to pay the necessary price. Perhaps his real position is better stated in this climactic image:

Think of participating in the global economy today like driving a Formula One race car, which gets faster every year. Someone is always going to be running into the wall and crashing, especially when you have drivers who only a few years ago were riding a donkey. You have two choices. You can ban Formula One racing. Then there will never be any crashes. But there also won't be any progress. Or you can do everything possible to reduce the impact of each crash by improving every aspect of the race.

It appears, then, that for Friedman globalization is not inevitable. But the only alternative to it is an end to all economic progress. If that's so, the point should be more seriously argued. None of the great economic success stories to date occurred in the context of a global economy. Are the patterns of the past really no longer viable?

In the absence of a nondestructive alternative, Friedman sees his task as furthering greater understanding and acceptance of globalization so that Americans will support the government in playing its historic role. He quotes Robert Kagan with approval: "Good ideas and technologies also need a strong power that promotes those ideas by example and protects those ideas by winning on the battlefield." Globalization's dependence on U.S. national policies is one of the book's central theses.

One of the dangers of globalization is suggested by the book's title. The olive tree represents "everything that roots us, anchors us, identifies us and locates us in the world -- whether it be belonging to a family, a community, a tribe, a nation, a religion or, most of all, a place called home." The threat to the olive tree "is likely to come from the Lexus -- from all the anonymous, transnational, homogenizing, standardizing market forces and technologies that make up today's globalizing economic system." But these forces need not destroy the olive tree. Friedman calls for their impact to be filtered, so traditional cultures can survive and adjust. At the same time, he recognizes that the uprooting and homogenizing effects of globalization are difficult to resist.

Friedman's discussion of the natural environment is closely linked to his concern for the preservation of traditional cultures.

"Because globalization as a culturally homogenizing and environment-devouring force is coming on so fast, there is a real danger that in just a few decades it could wipe out the ecological and cultural diversity that took millions of years of human and biological evolution to produce." This would make globalization unsustainable. Friedman hopes that market principles can save environmental diversity, that the global network will be used to organize environmental defense, and that technology will reduce the volume of materials needed for the economy and engineer new genetic forms. He knows that unless population growth slows, it will be impossible to protect the environment.

Friedman rightly argues that the policy options we face today are defined by the global economy. He provides a simple diagram of the four stances to which his analysis leads, and proposes two axes: one from separation to integration, and the other from "let them eat cake" to "social-safety-netters." Like Bill Clinton, he is committed to the quadrant of the integrationists and the social-safety-netters. I should be equally explicit about my own commitments. I, like House minority leader Dick Gephardt, belong to the separation/social-safety-netters.

Actually, of course, these schemes are too simple. Safety nets are not Friedman's only response to those crushed by the Lexus. He also wants trampolines -- ways to enable the poor to enter the market economy successfully. While favoring both safety nets and trampolines, I would focus more on systemic changes in the economy that would reduce the creation of poverty

Friedman has compassion for the poor, but he is most concerned about the political dangers to the economic system that will arise if the disadvantaged are neglected. I would begin with the plight of the world's poor and ask what economic system can best alleviate it. When this question is posed, it is clear that the present pattern of globalization is not the answer.

Friedman does not discuss how the global economic system systematically lowers wages throughout the world. When he talks about the growing income gap, his example is from basketball. Globalization makes a few into world celebrities while their teammates, who are almost as good, go unnoticed. This leads to a vast difference in income between the few stars and the other players.

Though this is an interesting point, it is chiefly relevant to entertainment and sports. A far greater downward pressure on wages comes from a different aspect of globalization: the global market allows corporations to locate in those places where they can pay the lowest wages for labor-intensive work. This forces nations to compete with one an-other in providing laborers who have no choice but to work for less and less. Many of our goods are cheap today because they are produced in this new global sweatshop. That millions of workers around the world are now toiling long hours without receiving a living wage is a direct consequence of globalization. Meanwhile, those CEOs most willing and able to exploit others receive astronomic salaries. Friedman is silent about all this. His attention is on the investors and entrepreneurs.

Though Friedman calls for a balance between the Lexus and the olive tree, he barely pauses to consider what can be done to sustain some form of community. He thinks the U.S. is achieving a balance quite well. I would argue that major trends in American society are more of an indictment of globalization's effects on community than a model for the world to follow. Since human beings need community more urgently than they need fancy cars, economic systems should be designed or managed to support community, not to destroy it.

The environmental crisis is far more critical than Friedman indicates. The degradation of the planet may make it incapable of supporting its human population. The global economy is rapidly depleting the resources on which it depends, polluting the air, water, and land and changing the global climate. There are critical reasons for searching for an alternative.

Friedman may be justified is asserting that we who are critical of globalization have not provided any widely influential alternative to it. But he does not consider what has been done in this direction. Moreover, he excuses events that show the bungling of the global economy by citing how new the global economy is. May not the absence of a well-conceived alternative be excused in a similar way? His recognition of globalization's threat to culture and the environment should make him willing to consider proposals for radical changes.

A central issue between those of us who oppose the present form of globalization and those who celebrate it is the role of governments. Both sides agree that governments play an important role. Those who side with Friedman argue that governments are needed to serve the market. Even Friedman's argument for democracy is based on the view that it eases the nation's integration into the global market.

Should economic growth and technological progress be our supreme values? Should not politics be about more inclusive goods? Should not economic goals be subordinated to more important purposes? If there are greater and more inclusive goods than wealth, then we should move toward what Friedman does not want -- either the recovery of control of the market by national governments, or the development of a global government capable of establishing the parameters of market activity.

Once governments reasserted their control over economic actors, it would become possible to restrict the power of the market. Governments can set the conditions of economic activity, including minimum wages, safe working conditions and antipollution standards. But if doing so raises the costs of production within their nations, they may have to protect their producers from being undercut by goods imported from countries that have lower standards. Governments could also protect their environments and natural resources. We could move from the single global market toward an international economy. Obviously, such an economy would require new sets of international agreements. A greatly strengthened United Nations would help provide the new levels of cooperation needed among nations.

This kind of international economic order might slow the growth of the global economy, but to dismiss it as ending all progress is not justified by any arguments provided in this book or, as far as I know, anywhere else. The greater freedom of governments would not ensure that the poor in their countries would benefit, but it would make possible the improvement of their condition -- a possibility absent in unfettered global capitalism.

The sense of inescapability that pervades the book is strengthened by the longer history in which Friedman sets the current form of globalization. We have been moving toward globalization for centuries, but the process was interrupted by the communist revolution in Russia, the Great Depression, World War II and the cold war that followed. With the end of the cold war, symbolized by the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, the process simply resumed of its own accord.

While there is some truth to this account, it is also misleading. Human decisions and intentionally chosen policies played an important role in the initiation of globalization. This began in the Reagan administration with the "Washington consensus" that private enterprise should be the engine of world development. The resultant policies reshaped both the U.S. and the Third World during the '80s.

The U.S. led in dismantling the welfare state and the national economy -- the dominant economic system of the first decades after World War II. This dismantling was not required by globalization; it was required for globalization. During the same period structural adjustment policies imposed by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund on scores of countries opened them to transnational corporations. Thus, well before the fall of the Berlin Wall, much of the world had already shifted away from national economies that tried to provide for all their people. Of course, the inclusion of Eastern Europe and China in the market was needed to make the new system fully global. And it was not until the '90s that private investments flooded the world.

Globalization would not have occurred -- or would have taken a different form -- without the joint decisions of the U.S. government, the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. If this radical change could be implemented by human decisions, other decisions could effect other changes.

We need the debate for which Friedman calls about how to adjust to globalization. Even more urgently we need a debate about alternatives to the current form of globalization -- alternatives that would leave our grandchildren a more livable world. .

Is Theological Pluralism Dead in the UMC?

"Liberalism" has many meanings in contemporary theological usage. Chiefly it has come to name something the speaker dislikes. But the liberal spirit has continued in an affirmation of theological pluralism -- an appreciation and attentive acceptance of a variety of theological programs. Sometimes this has meant that various historic Christian traditions have affirmed the legitimacy of each other’s differences in articulating the faith. Sometimes it has meant that such diversity could be affirmed even within a single denomination. The United Methodist Church has accepted theological pluralism in both of these ways. However, the second is now under attack.

In late April the denomination’s General Conference will convene for its quadrennial session. Decisions made at General Conference determine the denomination’s practice so far as that can be settled by legislation at least until the conference meets again. Among the crucial issues to be decided this year is the denomination’s openness to continuing its tradition of theological pluralism.

The UMC’s authoritative document is called The Book of Discipline. In the present Discipline the church affirms its openness to divergent theological traditions and projects, declaring that the UMC’s "theological spectrum. . . ranges over all the current mainstream options and a variety of special interest theologies as well." It asserts that the denomination’s doctrinal guidelines allow for, indeed they positively encourage, "variety in United Methodist theologizing." The breadth of this openness is made explicit by reference to neofundamentalism, new pentecostalism, new forms of Christian naturalism and secularity. as well as black theology, female liberation theology. political and ethnic theologies, third world theologies, and theologies of human rights."

This commitment to openness has not been without cost. For example. it too easily passes over into theological indifferentism. When theological faculties try to help students work out their own convictions in encounter with a variety of voices, many students find their freedom burdensome. Some prefer to be told what to believe. Even when students do successfully begin the task of articulating their own theological convictions, Boards of Ordained Ministry are often dissatisfied with the results. Thus candidates increasingly feel the need to know what answers will satisfy the boards.

A still more serious problem is that the denomination’s erstwhile unifying vision of its mission has faded. Methodism came into being to meet individual and societal needs that were not being dealt with by other church institutions, first in England and then elsewhere, especially on this continent. In the late 19th century the parent bodies now joined together in the United Methodist Church threw their energies into extending Christ’s reign around the world. Since World War II, however, only limited parts of the church are aroused to sacrificial giving and service by these visions, and no new vision has emerged to give focus and direction to the denomination. Inevitably, the UMC turns in on itself to find its reason for existence and a basis for action. When it does so, many understandably seek unity of belief to replace the disappearing unity of purpose. Some of these individuals are disturbed to find the denomination’s official statement so accepting of diversity.

The concern to resolve problems surrounding theological pluralism was a main factor leading the 1984 General Conference to seek the Council of Bishops’ appointment of a "Committee on our theological task." That committee is to report to the upcoming 1988 General Conference.

The committee accepted the implicit mandate to reject theological pluralism: even the factual existence of pluralism is barely acknowledged in its report. "United Methodists as a diverse people continue to strive for consensus in understanding the gospel. . . . In the name of Jesus Christ we are called to work within our diversity while exercising patience and forbearance with one another." In this passage diversity appears as an impediment to unity. and it is not clear, even here, that the reference is to diversity of theologies. Nowhere is it suggested that the life of the denomination may be enriched by a variety of theological approaches.

Once the denomination commits itself to homogeneity of theological approach, the question of the one acceptable approach becomes critical. The present Discipline limits diversity only by insisting that theology must justify itself in relation to four sources and guidelines. Scripture is the primary source and guideline "as the constitutive witness to biblical wellsprings of our faith," but tradition, experience and reason also function as sources and guidelines, and in practice "theological reflection may find its point of departure" in any of them.

The statement proposed to replace this one formulates the relationships quite differently. Scripture is no longer merely first among equals; it is treated in a separate section, with the other three grouped together as resources to be used in interpreting it. The passage on "Tradition, Experience, and Reason" begins by asserting that "while the community of faith acknowledges the primacy of Scripture as a norm in theological reflection, it is nevertheless the case that tradition, experience and reason are invariably at work in our attempts to grasp its meaning." The passage’s concluding paragraph asserts that "in theological reflection, the resources of tradition, experience, and reason are integral to our study of Scripture without displacing its primacy for faith and practice." The structure of the report, combined with these explicit statements, indicates clearly that what is called for is biblical hermeneutics.

However, the call is not for the mainstream of biblical hermeneutics in scholarly circles. There the multiplicity of diverse strands making up the Scriptures is emphasized. The report’s insistence is on the harmonious unity of all these strands. All texts are to be interpreted "in light of their place in the Bible as a whole." Wesley’s practice is held as normative. "At all times he sought to portray the unity of the biblical witness."

The document recognizes a certain problem in that "Scripture comprises a variety of diverse traditions, some of which reflect tensions in interpretation within the early Judeo-Christian heritage." But it points toward their harmonization. "However, these traditions are woven together in the Bible in a manner that expresses the fundamental unity of God’s revelation as received and experienced by the people in their own lives. The report calls on reason to "organize the understandings that compose our witness and render them internally coherent." In short, the approved form of theology is what was known during the ‘50s and ‘60s as "biblical theology."

There is no question but that the report’s authors are sensitive to the concerns of oppressed people, and committed to hearing their views:

We are now challenged by traditions from around the world which accent dimensions of Christian understanding that grow out of the sufferings and victories of the downtrodden. Some of these traditions help us to rediscover the Biblical regard for the poor, the disabled, the imprisoned, the oppressed, the outcast. They underscore the equality of all persons in Jesus Christ. They display the capacity of the gospel to free us to embrace the diversity of human cultures and appreciate their values. They reenforce our traditional understanding of the inseparability of personal salvation and social justice. They deepen our commitment to global peace. A critical appreciation of these traditions can compel us to think about God in new ways, enlarge our vision of shalom, and enhance our confidence in God’s provident love.

We may assume that at least some forms of black theology and Minjung theology are thus affirmed, for they both interpret Scripture in just such ways as these. But what about black theology that draws on pre-Christian African traditions as a source, or Minjung theology that draws on the historic experience of the Korean people as well as on Christian Scriptures and tradition? Can these be affirmed? In the draft version of the document the answer seemed to be No. But two insertions in the final report may alter this situation. First, in the paragraph just quoted there is reference to appreciating the values of diverse cultures. Second, in the discussion of experience there is now an important new clause:

"Our theological task is informed by the experience of the Church and by the common experiences of all humanity." Third, in discussing interreligious relations, the final report states that "recognizing that the Spirit of God is at work everywhere, we listen thoughtfully to the wisdom and insights that others share with us." None of these phrases offers as clear a basis for black or Minjung theology as does the current Discipline, though they do offer it a foothold in the denomination.

Latin American liberation theology also functions emphatically as a biblical hermeneutic and in this respect is encouraged. But in most such theology social analysis plays a strong, constitutive role. Two sentences in the discussion of reason in the earlier version of the report could be taken to support the use of such analysis: "By reason we relate our witness to the full range of human knowledge and experience," and "By our quest for reasoned understandings of Christian faith we seek to grasp and express the gospel in a way that will commend itself to thoughtful persons who are seeking to know and follow God’s ways." In the final version a further statement is added: "By reason we ask questions of faith." This addition helps to counter the impression left by the earlier draft that reason is used only triumphalistically to display biblical truth and not penitently to criticize Christian beliefs and practices. Critical social analysis may thus be allowed entree into theology.

The report affirms feminist theology insofar as it is an aid to biblical interpretations that can be a part of a harmonized whole and insofar as it constitutes a call for equal treatment of women in church and in society. But many feminists want more than that. Engaging in a critique of the one-sided, masculine perspective that dominates our whole Western tradition, including the Scriptures, they take women’s experience seriously as a source for transforming Christian theology. The only principle the report offers for inclusion of such a view has already been quoted: "Our theological task is informed . . . by the common experiences of all humanity." Whether this general statement allows for women’s distinctive experience to be a source for transforming traditional Christian teaching may some day be an issue for the Judicial Council to decide.

One could interpret the several passages on reason quoted above as providing a basis for the practice of philosophical theology. And there is another already present in the first published draft. Near the beginning of the section "Our Theological Task," the report states that "our theological task is critical in that we test various expressions of faith by asking, Are they true?" It could be argued that this question opens the way for testing those expressions against the findings of natural and historical sciences and of philosophy. The text continues: "Our theological task is constructive in that every generation must appropriate creatively the wisdom of the past." This notion could be interpreted to include the scientific and philosophical wisdom which would then be integrated with biblical wisdom in an inclusive theology, although this interpretation is in tension with the flat assertion that reason is "not itself a source of theology."

If the report is adopted by General Conference, these footholds for a variety of theological programs may become extremely important for individual United Methodist theologians. But even if they allow some continued diversity in theological programs within the denomination, the theological climate will change. Theological options that have heretofore been fully accepted as part of the conversation will be forced to defend their right to continue as such. Those who want to rid the denomination of its theological confusion by suppressing diversity will be strengthened. Presumably this was intended by many of those opposing theological pluralism along with the full recognition of tradition, experience and reason as sources and guidelines for theology.

Whether the committee statement, if adopted, will ever be used as a basis for such serious procedures as heresy trials cannot now be predicted, but that it will be used by Boards of Ordained Ministry in screening candidates can be confidently stated. Seminaries will be under pressure to prepare students for doctrinal examinations judged by these boards. In that role the statement is likely to be read more in terms of its main drift toward biblical theology than in terms of the slight affirmation it accords other theological programs. In all of these developments, recent trends will be strengthened. The era of real theological pluralism in United Methodism will draw to an end.

Growth Without Progress?

The negative effects of free trade are readily apparent. No one doubts that free trade disrupts existing patterns of employment, creating hardship for those who lose their jobs. No one can realistically question that in the United States in recent years trade has taken away more well-paying positions than it has replaced at that pay level. The vaunted growth in the service sector consists, in large part, of jobs that are at or near minimum wage; and real wages in general have been declining for some time. No one disputes the fact that it becomes more difficult for a nation involved in free trade to maintain environmental and workplace standards higher than other nations within the market. Indeed, no one denies that, in general, many decisions formerly made by nations must be shifted to an international agency of some sort; and most agree that the standards maintained by that agency will be lower than those previously implemented in some of the countries involved.

What, then, are the gains from free trade that, in the view of its proponents, make the sacrifices worthwhile? Two types of advantage are claimed. The first type is political and humanitarian. Free trade is thought to reduce the danger of war. It overcomes the excessive nationalism that has done so much harm in Western history. It brings diverse people closer together, so that ancient misunderstandings and suspicions are overcome. Free trade encourages the investment of capital from the wealthy countries in the poorer ones, and some believe that this will eventually reduce the drastic inequalities of the present global situation. They argue that it offers the one realistic hope for bringing many Third World countries out of poverty. It increases interdependence, and it can thereby move us toward the "One World" for which many idealists long.

The second type of advantage claimed by proponents of free trade is economic. Indeed, it is the economic gains expected from free trade that are the chief motivation of those who urge it as universal policy. The consumer finds a great variety of goods available at cheaper prices, because they can flow unimpeded from other countries, including those where production costs are lower. The financier can invest capital where it is most profitable, and that means where it is most productive. The result is that total production increases. It is argued that the increase of total production means that there are more goods for all, in short, that people in general are better off. The usual measure for this, on a national basis, has been per capita Gross National Product. Although some economists prefer to use Net National Product, and although there is now an appropriate shift to Gross Domestic Product as a better measure of economic health, I shall continue to speak in terms of the more familiar GNP. For present purposes, the difference made by shifting to one of the other accounts would be minor.

II

Before discussing the advantages and disadvantages of free trade at this very general level, I will turn to the proposed agreement with Mexico and the way in which it would probably work out. Actually, we need not speculate much. Since the mid-eighties tariffs on goods moving between the United States and Mexico have been greatly reduced. The remaining barriers are not very important. The proposed agreement, NAFTA, would complete the process of opening the Mexican market to foreign investment and goods, but it would primarily function to insure that the existing openness would not be easily removed by future administrations of the countries involved. This would give greater assurance to investors that they could plan on the basis of the relative permanence of the existing situation.

This assurance that trade would remain free would certainly lead to continuing and to accelerating existing trends. There would be increased capital investment by the United States in Mexico. Much of this would be for the purpose of producing goods to be exported back into the United States, as in the case of the existing "maquiladoras." These have already grown to the point of employing half a million Mexican workers; so we are not left to guess what is in view. Goods produced with U.S. capital and Mexican labor would be competitive in the international market, so Mexico would become the locus of production for many goods for export outside the free-trade zone. Some Mexican investors would profit greatly from these developments. Others would be wiped out in the competition with U.S. capital.

There would also be more investment by U.S. agribusiness. To make that possible the Mexican government has set aside the laws that forbade the selling of peasant land. Since this land has not been as degraded as most agricultural land in the United states, and since agricultural labor will be cheap, industrial-type agricultural production in Mexico will, no doubt, compete successfully with that in the United States.

What will happen in the United States? Labor-intensive industry will continue to move to Mexico, since plants paying U.S. wages will not be able to compete. Plants that do not move will gain further wage concessions from their employees. The pool of labor will increase in relation to jobs paying a living wage, and this will exert further downward pressure on wages. This was acknowledged with respect to "unskilled labor" by the U.S. International Trade commission in its February 1991 report to Congress. Since what is called "unskilled labor" constitutes three-fourths of the workforce, the prospect of continuing the decline in income for this group is not a minor consideration.

For a short time, U.S. agricultural products will expand their markets in Mexico. This influx will continue to weaken the peasant economy there. But as agribusiness moves its production more and more to Mexico, the flow of products will be reversed. The difficulties of farmers in the United States will increase.

On the other hand, those in the United States whose income is derived from capital will gain, since Mexico will provide many profitable investment opportunities. The demand of the affluent for services will continue to provide jobs in that sector of the economy, but with a large pool of available labor, wages will be low. A few businesses in the United States will profit from freer entrance to the Mexican market, but since that market is relatively small, this is not likely to be as significant as has been asserted. The projection of the ITC is that the increase in exports to Mexico will amount only to one-sixth of one per cent of the Gross Domestic Product. Since the businesses that can continue to operate profitably in the United States will be those where labor is a small part of total costs, the number of jobs provided by them will not be large.

III

I noted that there are two types of arguments for free trade. The first is political and humanitarian. If we examine these in light of the probable consequences of free trade with Mexico, the conclusions are disappointing. There may be improved understanding among some capitalists. But campesinos forced off their land, even if employed by agribusiness, are unlikely to have an improved appreciation of the United States. The attitudes of the workers in the maquiladoras do not bode well for the effects of increasing their number.

One reason for the lack of improved feeling on the part of Mexican workers is that their wages are extremely poor. From 1981 to 1990 the minimum wage in Mexico fell from $1.53 per hour to $.59 per hour. We should not blame this entirely on trade and U.S. capital investments, but the policies that led to this drop were connected with Mexico's financial relations to the outside world. We cannot expect Mexicans who are struggling to survive on these wages to have much appreciation for the nation that has played the largest role in forcing structural adjustments on Mexican society. Similarly, U.S. workers who lose their jobs or accept reduced wages because of increased competition with Mexican workers are unlikely to feel positively toward them. In light of what is actually happening and what is most likely to increase as a result of NAFTA, the political and humanitarian arguments for free trade, at least in regard to relations with Mexico, are weak.

Let us consider the second type of argument for free trade, the economic one. Proponents of free trade argue that, as more capital flows into Mexico, wages will rise, and the gap between the Mexican and the U.S. economies will narrow. Sidney Weintraub, a supporter of free trade with Mexico, hopes that the wages of Mexican workers will improve by 5% per year for twenty to thirty years. But beginning at $.59 an hour, it would take nearly twenty years of such growth for the minimum wage to return to the not very impressive height from which it began falling in 1981.

Can we be more optimistic than Weintraub about the impact of free trade on Mexican workers? As long as the labor pool is large in relation to the number of jobs, we cannot. U.S. capital, attracted to Mexico by cheap labor, will not intentionally adopt policies that raise the cost of labor. Many of the capital investments will increase the pool of labor available for manufacturing by introducing less labor-intensive forms of agriculture and retailing. And in any case, the Mexican labor pool increases rapidly from population growth. Should wages rise much in spite of all this, the free trade zone will be expanded to include areas where wages are still lower. The prospects for Mexican workers are bleak.

IV

The more credible arguments for enlarging the market, seem to be economic ones at a general and theoretical level. These deserve consideration independent of extrapolation of the probable effects of a particular extension of market boundaries. There are two main arguments. First, free trade benefits consumers; and, second, more overall economic growth can be expected when the size of the market is increased.

First, then, there can be little doubt that the variety of goods available in stores will be greater in both countries when free trade policies are securely in place. Also, the prices will be lower. Hence, from the point of view of the consumer, free trade is a gain. However, this argument by itself is not decisive. Unless people earn money, they cannot benefit from this wealth of available goods, even if they are relatively cheap. If the real wage continues its decade long downward trend, the majority of consumers will be less able to buy. The clearer economic argument for free trade is the second, namely, that it increases per capita Gross National Product or average consumption of goods and services.

By moving to such overall considerations, we can avoid the question of what happens to particular groups within society and consider the average results. This is the approach of most institutions devoted to advancing the economic well-being of individual countries or of the world as a whole. They seek to identify those policies that will result in economic growth understood in this way. They assume that when such growth occurs, whatever hardships may be suffered by particular sectors of society, the people as a whole are better off.

Most of the other arguments for free trade are more for popular consumption. The conviction that free trade leads to more rapid economic growth is the fundamental argument that has led thoughtful public-spirited citizens to support it. Of course, both supporters and opponents of free trade include among their number persons who have narrower interests, but in a conference of this sort we are seeking to understand the arguments of those who genuinely care for the future well-being of the people of both the countries involved.

V

If I am correct that the quest for economic growth is of primary importance in shaping the policies of our nation, and of most other nations, as well as of international agencies, then the exact meaning of "economic growth" is very important. Growth of what is being sought?

The answer is that what is sought is primarily growth of market activity. This is what is chiefly measured by GNP, and policies directed to the increase of GNP consistently focus on increasing this activity. It is assumed that people become economically better off as market activity increases. Since so much in practice follows from this assumption, I propose that we examine it more closely.

No economist supposes that per capita GNP directly measures economic welfare or well-being. It is obvious that it includes elements that do not reflect well-being. For example, as the world situation becomes more threatening, costs for military preparedness rise, or even the costs of actually fighting a war. But this does not mean that the lot of citizens has improved in economic terms. Similarly, as crime increases, the costs of fighting it rise. But although that causes the GNP to grow, the economic welfare of the people is not improved. The GNP also includes other "defensive expenditures," that is, costs that are made necessary by the productive economy but do not add to the product. Furthermore, economists know that economic activity outside the market contributes to economic well-being.

Therefore, although per capita GNP is often quoted as if it were a measure of economic well-being, this is not the position of serious thinkers who defend the use of GNP figures to guide policy. Their argument is that the correlation between growth of per capita GNP and improvement of economic welfare is sufficient that policies leading to that growth will improve economic well-being. If so, then the recognition that GNP is not a direct measure of economic welfare is of little practical importance. If the correlation between growth of GNP and improvement of economic welfare is low, on the other hand, then it is urgent that the true nature of economic well-being be clarified, so that policies can be directed to improving the economic conditions of real people rather than to a misleading surrogate.

Challenging the hegemony of GNP in shaping policies directed to economic improvement is not new. Objections have been raised repeatedly, albeit in rather narrow circles. Most economists have not taken these objections seriously, being confident that growth in market activity must enable consumers to obtain more of what they want. However, criticism, often by outsiders, has led to some scholarly work by economists.

VI

By far the most important research was done by William Nordhaus and James Tobin. They developed a Measure of Economic Welfare and plotted it for the United States from 1929-1965. The 1972 essay in which they published their results is entitled, "Is Growth Obsolete?" The question is a dramatic statement of our question. Are improvements in economic welfare so connected to increases in GNP that, despite the differences between economic welfare and market activity, it is appropriate to continue to use GNP as a way of measuring economic success? Nordhaus and Tobin concluded that growth is not obsolete, that is, they concluded that the correlation of growth of per capita GNP and improving economic well-being is sufficiently high that their differences need not affect economic policies.

They formulated this conclusion as follows: "Although the numbers presented here are very tentative, they do suggest the following observations. First, MEW is quite different from conventional output measures. Some consumption items omitted from GNP are of substantial quantitative importance. Second, our preferred variant of per capita MEW has been growing more slowly than per capita NNP . . . . Yet MEW has been growing. The progress indicated by conventional national accounts is not just a myth that evaporates when a welfare-oriented measure is substituted." (Economic Growth, National Bureau of Economic Research General Series, No. 96E. New York: Columbia University Press, 1972, p. 17.)

They were sufficiently satisfied with their results to drop the topic, and neither they nor anyone else continued to plot the MEW for the years after 1965. Yet when their results are examined more carefully, they would seem, at the very least, to call for close monitoring of the economy with the distinction between improving economic welfare and growth of GNP in mind. For example, they show that over the whole period they studied, 1929-1965, welfare improvement was two-thirds as rapid as growth. It is on the basis of this overall, relatively high, correlation that they concluded that the continued pursuit of growth is appropriate without direct regard to questions of economic well-being.

On the other hand, if we attend to the last eighteen years for which they offer figures, surely the most important period for extrapolating into the future, then we find that economic well-being improved only one-sixth as rapidly as per capita GNP grew! This suggests that economic growth at this stage of U.S. history may be a quite inefficient way of improving economic welfare. It certainly shows that the usefulness of the GNP as an indication of economic welfare in the United States has declined markedly!

VII

When a group of us in Claremont decided to reopen the question, our first thought was to bring the work of Nordhaus and Tobin up to date. We suspected that the decline in correlation of improvement in economic welfare and growth in market activity had continued, and we thought that using a widely recognized measure, developed by respected economists, would give some authority to the results. We ended up developing a new index, but we did follow the pattern of their index in many respects.

One important contribution of their work was to recognize that true economic welfare is sustainable welfare. This is readily asserted with respect to individuals. When we judge how well-off economically a family is, we do not ask only how much it has consumed during a year. We also want to know how its assets at the end of the year compare with those at the beginning. If a family has maintained a high level of consumption by using not only its income but also its capital, we would judge that, it is not well-off. Its consumption level is not sustainable.

For a nation to have a sustainable economy some of its income must be invested in maintaining its productive capacities and the infrastructure that supports the economy. Since population is growing, there must also be expansion of the productive capacities to insure that the next generation have the same standard of living. Nordhaus and Tobin did impressive and rigorous work in calculations of this sort. We have taken this notion of sustainability as central in our calculations.

However, we soon discovered that we could not simply bring their tables up to date. Some of the statistics they used are not available for the later period. Furthermore, we decided that the assumptions they made were too different from ours for this approach to work. For example, they dismissed environmental considerations, whereas in the two decades since they wrote, the importance of the natural environment has been widely recognized. If we follow them in their concern for sustainability, then we must give serious consideration both to depletion of natural capital and to large-scale pollution.

Even though many economists today recognize that attention should be given to these matters, relatively little work has yet been done on how to calculate them, and no consensus was available to us. Since our results depend on decisions on questions of this sort, and since I want to provide you with some basis for judging our work, I will give you an example here of our procedure. I will use, for this purpose, depletion of nonrenewable natural capital.

The most important nonrenewable natural capital that is being used up is energy. We have limited our calculations to this, and we have used oil as the most important form of nonrenewable energy, treating other forms in terms of their equivalence in oil. The question, then, is how to place a dollar value on the reduction of the oil stock. We have conceptualized this, at the suggestion of Herman Daly, in terms of the amount of rent from resource production that should be reinvested in a process that would create a perpetual stream of output of a renewable substitute. We have taken gasohol, produced from sugar cane, as such a substitute.

Of course, the actual calculation requires many more assumptions. What will be the cost of producing energy from organic materials as the demand for such energy escalates and requires more and more agricultural land? Today it costs $40 to $50 a barrel to produce ethanol from corn. How much more will it cost in future? We have estimated that the cost will increase by 3% per year.

Whereas our index gives extensive consideration to environmental matters, it omits the largest item in the MEW. Nordhaus and Tobin gave a great deal of attention to the value of leisure, whereas we decided to exclude this from our measures. Since most economists see the increase of leisure as an important economic gain, I will briefly explain our decision to omit it.

Economists treat work as something negative. One works only to obtain the wherewithal to buy goods and services. Hence, the less work the better. The question, then, is, What constitutes leisure? Is all the time we are not working, including the time we are asleep, leisure time? Are the unemployed enjoying leisure? Is the time we spend with our children leisure or work? When we retire, is all our time leisure? Is work always undesirable and leisure always good?

Let us suppose, contrary to fact, that it were possible to come up with a figure that represented the amount of desirable leisure and that we could measure its increase and decrease from year to year. We would then have the problem of putting a dollar value on an hour of leisure. Is the leisure of a person who earns $20 an hour of greater value than the leisure of one who earns $5? Does the value of leisure rise as wages rise and fall as wages fall?

Nordhaus and Tobin proposed three ways of evaluating leisure. The somewhat arbitrary choice among them has a great effect upon their results. One of their options would transform into a loss the small gain in welfare they found from 1947 to 1965. We decided that making so much of the result of our measure dependent on decisions in which we had so little confidence reduced the value of the index as a whole.

My confession of a bias at the outset opens all our decisions to reasonable suspicion. I acknowledged that our group doubted that growth of per capita GNP is always correlated with improved economic welfare. Indeed, we suspected that it could be shown statistically that the large increase in per capita GNP in the past generation in the United States has not been accompanied by a significant improvement in economic well-being. You may suspect, therefore, that we would decide what to include and what to exclude for the sake of making our point.

With regard at least to leisure, however, we did not do this. In Nordhaus and Tobin's MEW, the inclusion of this item dramatically slowed improvement of economic welfare after World War II. Omitting leisure would have strengthened their case that growth is not obsolete. Our omission of leisure contributes markedly to the fact that for the period of overlap in our statistics, 1950 to 1965, we show more improvement in economic welfare than they.

Some of the difficulties of measuring leisure reoccur with respect to household services. Nevertheless, we have retained these. Their importance is obvious. If a woman stays home to keep house, take care of children, and provide food for the family, this is an extremely important contribution to economic well-being. There is consensus on this. Although it is hard to measure the number of hours spent on these productive activities, and there is difficulty deciding what dollar value to place on them, economists have given much more attention to this subject than to leisure. It would be too much to say that there is full consensus, but figures are available that are widely respected. We have used those provided by Robert Eisner.

We introduced two major considerations into our index that were not included in that of Nordhaus and Tobin in addition to environmental ones. One is change in net international position. The value of capital assets in the United States owned by outsiders is subtracted from the value of assets in other countries owned by Americans. It is our assumption that financing the purchase of goods for immediate consumption either by borrowing money or by selling our capital assets is not a sustainable practice.

The second additional consideration has to do with the distribution of income. It is our assumption that an increase of disposable income of $1000 adds more to the economic welfare of a family whose total income is $10,000 than to that of a family of equal size that takes in $100,000 a year. Hence we judge that an increase of average income in the poorest 20% of the population adds more to overall economic well-being than an increase on the part of the richest 20%.

I have listed these judgments so that you will have a realistic basis for evaluating the statistics which resulted. Even if you agree with our basic judgments, you might come to somewhat different conclusions as to just what values to assign to the various items. We agree that there is an element of arbitrariness in many of the quantifications we have used. But the most important questions in framing a measure of economic welfare have to do with what contributes to sustainable well-being. If you agree that environmental deterioration is important, that net international capital is a significant consideration, and that a nation is better off economically when the gap between the rich and the poor is narrowed, then our figures will be useful to you in evaluating how much correlation there is between changes in per capita GNP and economic welfare.

We named our measure of economic well-being, the Index of Sustainable Economic Welfare, or the ISEW, for short. We have revised our calculations twice based on helpful criticism of our initial index, which was published as an Appendix in For the Common Good. I will quote figures from our most recent revision. The statistics are all in 1972 dollars. In 1951, per capita GNP in the United States was $3741; per capita ISEW was $2793. In 1988, per capita GNP was $7664; per capita ISEW was $3147.

If we take these figures and ask Nordhaus and Tobin's question, "Is Growth Obsolete?", our answer could be the same as theirs. From 1951 to 1988 economic welfare has improved as Gross National Product has risen. But our answer could also be negative. While per capita GNP more than doubled, per capita ISEW grew about one-eighth. Surely this must raise some question as to whether single-minded pursuit of economic growth is the best way to improve the economic situation!

I noted that Nordhaus and Tobin came to their conclusion that economic growth improves welfare by taking their statistics for the entire period of their study. I have done the same for the ISEW. I noted also that when one attended only to the latter prt of the period studied by Nordhaus and Tobin, the correlation was greatly reduced. Our correlation for the whole period is even less than theirs for the later part of their study, about one-to-eight instead of one-to-six. If we look instead at the last ten years of our study, 1978 to 1988, we find that while per capita GNP rose from $6463 to $7644, per capita ISEW fell from $3480 to $3120. In short, while per capita GNP rose nearly 20%, per capita ISEW fell about 10%.

VIII

In order to appreciate the full force of these results, it is helpful to understand that the Index of Sustainable Economic Welfare accepts the most basic assumption underlying the work of Nordhaus and Tobin and all others who have devised measures of economic welfare. This assumption is that the more we consume the better off we are economically. The largest figure in the ISEW is the same as the largest figure in the GNP, that is, personal consumption. Personal consumption throughout the period we have studied has been about two-thirds of GNP. The inclusion of the entirety of this item as the starting point of calculations means that one would expect there to be a high correlation between growth of GNP and increase of ISEW.

In reality, large expenditures on alcohol and tobacco and junk food, all included in personal consumption, do not always add to human well-being. But the ISEW follows the economic convention of assuming that people know best what they want and that the satisfaction of those wants, whatever they may be, is the proper aim of economics.

Another criticism of economic measures of which the ISEW takes no account is that personal satisfaction is much more related to relative status in a community than to absolute income or wealth. Indeed, sociological studies have not found any evidence that people in affluent societies are happier than those in impoverished ones, or that happiness increases over time as people become more affluent. Even if we do not accept this general conclusion, we must acknowledge that many purchases are made in order to catch up with others or to get ahead of them. The satisfaction attached to acquiring these goods has to do with status in the community. But this is a zero-sum game. If one gets ahead, another falls behind. Hence, the size of total consumption overstates the amount of real economic welfare that consumption contributes to society.

I have tried to make clear that the ISEW figures are not exact factual measures of economic well-being. There are no such figures and never will be. The ISEW does, however, come much closer to indicating real economic welfare than does the GNP. Although one could argue that we are wrong in subtracting certain things or in using the values we do at various points, and so claim that economic welfare has in fact not declined in recent years, it would be equally possible to reintroduce leisure into our calculations and end up with figures indicating a more drastic decline. The evidence is strong that increasing the GNP in the way we have been doing this recently does not improve the economic well-being of the people as a whole. Continuing single-minded efforts to increase GNP, when that increase is accompanied by a decline in sustainable economic welfare, does not make sense.

If adherents of the conventional approach believe that increasing GNP does consistently improve economic welfare, they are challenged to give some evidence in support of their belief. Unless and until they do so, economic growth alone cannot provide justification for policies that cause obvious economic dislocations and inflict suffering on considerable segments of society.

IX

There are two other arguments against my conclusion that are worthy of serious consideration. The first is that even if there are some periods during which economic growth does not correlate with improved economic well-being, most of the time it does. The situation in Mexico, it can be argued, is likely to support such a correlation. Hence it remains important to adopt growth-oriented policies for the sake of Mexico, even if these result in further deterioration of economic well-being in the United States.

Unfortunately, I have no figures to offer for economic welfare in Mexico calculated in our way or in any other. Hence I will be engaged in pure speculation. My own judgment is that, indeed, some increase in production is needed in Mexico for the sake of economic well-being. But production can be increased in differing ways. Types of increase that directly benefit the people involved can be distinguished from those that require massive dislocations and suffering. It is also possible to distinguish forms of growth that are environmentally benign from those that are destructive. Single-mindedly increasing market activity, for example, by expanding the geographical size of the market, will have many negative results that will go far to counterbalance any positive ones. Other approaches to development are preferable.

A second argument favoring continuation of present policies, is that there is, in reality, no alternative. Even if continuing growth is accompanied by a decline in economic well-being, it is argued, a cessation of growth would have much worse effects. It is pointed out that we are committed to an economic system that can survive only when it grows. Its collapse would have consequences too horrible to contemplate.

This argument is a powerful one. It is accepted by almost all "realists." The idea of shifting to a different economic system, one that would meet human needs on a sustainable basis, is viewed as naive and utopian. This view is taken to justify the refusal to consider alternatives.

Our situation resembles that of a drug addict. The addict gets less and less satisfaction out of the drug. Other aspects of his life deteriorate more and more. But the prospects of not getting another fix are too horrible to contemplate. "Realistically" there is no alternative. To talk about quitting is naive and utopian.

Fortunately, the drug addict is surrounded by a society in which the majority are not addicted and can bring pressure on the addict to seek help. The suffering involved in breaking the habit is real, but there are successes, and these can encourage others. Unfortunately, in the case of the addiction to economic growth, even when it has become obviously negative in its effects on real people, there is no wider society of those not addicted to bring pressure on the addicts. Instead, the addicts continue to press one another into deeper addiction. There are no examples of countries that have successfully broken free, and there are no institutions available to help in the process.

X

I wish that those with technical expertise about economic matters would direct much of their energy to finding how the economy could serve sustainable human welfare. Unfortunately, their technical expertise is so bound up with commitment to growth that they are among those "realists" who insist that there are no options. A heavy responsibility, therefore, falls on others to work together to develop such options.

Some consensus is emerging about the alternative to orthodox economics. Instead of breaking down local communities in the interest of capital and labor mobility, the alternative would be to work for the economic health of local communities. Since local communities can have no sustainable economic well-being without considerable control over their own lives, this would require relative economic self-sufficiency in relatively small regions. In short, instead of concentrating economic power in the hands of a few transnational corporations that can profit from the union of U.S. capital and cheap Mexican labor, it would decentralize economic power, returning it closer to the people.

Obviously, it will not be easy to reverse course and move in this direction. Far from it. The extremely widespread conviction that such a change of direction is impossible makes this reversal still more difficult. But as it becomes more and more obvious that the present course works against the well-being of most of present and future humanity, there is bound to be increasing interest in an alternative. Eventually, and I hope soon, many specialists in economics will be willing to help define what will be involved in such a reversal and the kind of economy to which it will lead. Meanwhile we can celebrate and join forces with the few who are already helping.

The greatest obstacle to changing course is the threat to jobs. Although it is clear that the GNP does not measure economic welfare, it can reasonably be argued that the level of market activity, which it does measure, gives some indication of the number of jobs available. Failure to expand market activity, without other basic changes, would increase unemployment.

The need to reflect on how full employment can be attained in smaller markets is an urgent one. Unfortunately, few economists are prepared to discuss it. For most of them, the solution to unemployment is to expand market activity, and no alternative is worth considering. Obviously, throughout history there have been many small markets in which there has been need for the work of all able-bodied persons. But the academic discipline of economics does not deal historically with such alternatives. It is committed to an industrial-market-system that solves its problems by growth based on increasing the productivity of labor. As long as no other way of providing more jobs is conceived, workers, already hard-pressed by the results of expanding the market, will be terrified by the prospects of contracting it.

One approach to fresh thinking on these matters would be to shift from conserving labor to conserving energy. Much of the increase of labor productivity has been based on substituting fossil-fuel energy for human work. Now that energy is becoming the factor that is scarce and labor is plentiful, it would make more sense to replace fossil fuels by labor, especially at those points where that could also restore interest and dignity to work. This is no simple matter. To find our way through such a transition requires the redirection of effort on the part of that community best qualified to think about economic matters.

The first step in redirecting the economy toward sustainable economic well-being and away from damaging forms of growth is to stop taking new steps directed toward destructive growth. So far as I have been able to discern, the proposed agreement with Mexico is geared to that form of growth that does not improve the well-being of people. The economic order that will be furthered by that agreement will only make the redirection of the economy to sustainable welfare more difficult. It will concentrate both economic and political power in the hands of those who now control investments. And once governments have surrendered power to agencies whose function is to encourage trade, the vast majority of people in all the countries involved will find it ever more difficult to influence the policies that shape their lives.

It is argued that if the United States rejects this agreement, whatever the reason, this rejection would poison relations with Mexico. There is danger that this would occur. Rejection would certainly embitter the present Mexican administration. In any case, over the years, the United States has done so much to deserve Mexican suspicion, that it is doubtful that many Mexicans would respect the motives of those who oppose the proposed expansion and permanent institutionalization of free trade. But this is no justification for taking action that is against the interests of most Mexicans as well as most persons in the United States.

Discussion of economic relations with Mexico is a good context for reflecting on what the United States can do that would be of real benefit to the people of Mexico. The most useful step would be the cancellation of external Mexican debts. This would help to release Mexico from the tutelage of international development organizations and the pressure to impoverish its own people. It would allow Mexico to devote its energies to meeting the present needs of its citizens. In addition, although most so-called development aid in the past has been at best ambiguous in its effects, there are forms of aid that the United States could offer to rural and urban communities in Mexico that would be genuinely supportive.

The consequences of free trade have been felt with even greater force in Canada than in the United States. They have been so obviously disastrous to Canadian industry, and especially to Canadian industrial labor, that a new Canadian government may end this arrangement. If so, the United States might recognize the importance of developing an economic policy designed to improve the economic well-being of its own people rather than to support its transnational corporations in their global competition with those of other great economic blocks. This could be the beginning of the reversal so urgently needed.

What Kind of Growth?

Everyone in Western society believes in growth -- or at least almost everyone. There are a few who would like to keep things as they are or go back to an earlier, simpler, and smaller world. But they are few. Our culture for a long time has been oriented to making things better, toward leaving a better world for our descendants than we found left to us.

During the past two centuries growth has been understood chiefly in economic terms. A few people have clung to notions of growth in virtue and knowledge. But public policy, with massive public support, has been geared to growth in the economy. As long as there is poverty anywhere, as long as there are unfilled desires for material goods, economic expansion seems to be at least an essential element in growth. And it is on this element that attention has concentrated.

Further, economic growth has been almost universally identified with increased production and consumption. Indeed, growth has been largely defined by growth of product. If gross national product increases more rapidly than national population, it is generally assumed that we are better off economically, and it is equally assumed that if we are better off economically in this sense, then we are better off humanly. Noone supposes that the only desirable growth is growth in per capita product, but almost everyone assumes that this growth is very desirable, and that it is the kind of growth on which society as a whole can agree to cooperate.

But I exaggerate. Questions have been raised for some time now. Beginning in the sixties, more and more people noticed that economic growth as measured by gross product involved costs. Some emphasized psychological costs, some, social costs, others, environmental costs. Still others pointed out that some of what increases gross national product does not contribute in any way to human welfare.

The criticism of the GNP as a way of measuring desirable growth was sufficiently serious that discussions were held at the highest levels of government and two fine economists undertook to provide an alternate way of measuring growth. I refer to Nordhaus and Tobin and their Measure of Economic Welfare. They took into account many of the complaints about the GNP and calculated the MEW for the period 1939-1965. Over this period they showed that growth in economic welfare had been much less than that of the Gross National Product, but they concluded that because MEW had nevertheless grown, continuing efforts to increase gross product were appropriate.

In reviewing their work it is hard not to conclude that their major interest was justifying the continuing use of GNP as an adequate indicator of economic improvement. One concludes this because it would be so easy to use their findings to reach quite different conclusions.

Basically their figures showed that growth in gross product and growth in welfare rose together from 1939 to 1947 but that since then a large continuing growth in product was accompanied by very little improvement as judged by the Measure of Economic Welfare. What their statistics seem to show is that under some circumstances increase in national product is an effective way of improving welfare but that in other circumstances it is not. They further suggested that since World War II the latter circumstances have prevailed. As a minimum it would have seemed worthwhile to continue measuring economic welfare to determine whether continuing growth in national product would once again begin to benefit human beings economically or whether that epoch in our national history had ended. If it had ended, then it would seem appropriate to ask what policies are now needed if our concern is to improve economic welfare of people rather than increase production for its own sake.

This question seemed so important to some of us that we decided a few years ago to try to bring the work of Nordhaus and Tobin up to date. If it turned out that in the twenty years after 1965 continuing growth of GNP had not been accompanied by improved economic welfare, then surely it was time for a national discussion of how welfare could be improved. Continuing to shape so much policy, at all levels, around the assumption that increasing production is always desirable might not be justified.

We found, however, that this task was not possible, or at least not possible for us. Some of the statistics used by Nordhaus and Tobin were not available for the twenty year period following their work. Furthermore, our own value judgments were somewhat different from those of Nordhaus and Tobin. Problems of pollution paid a very minor role in their work and resource exhaustion none at all. They did not consider questions of distribution of income relevant to welfare. We felt the need for additional columns dealing with these matters.

On the other hand, they gave a very important, even dominating, role to the valuation of leisure. As we investigated this, we found questions both of how to value leisure and of judging what constitute leisure very perplexing. The overall results for the index as a whole were overwhelmed by the quite arbitrary choices to be made on this one point. Our solution was to omit leisure from our index.

We call our proposal the Index of Sustainable Economic Welfare. It is far from perfect, and indeed we have already made a number of revisions based on significant criticisms we have received. The deeper one goes into the choices to be made, the more one realizes that there are no neutral and objective ways of measuring economic welfare. Nevertheless, I am convinced that rather than continue to assume that growth, as measured by Gross National Product is an appropriate goal of national and international policy, we must examine how it relates to economic welfare, and that requires that we dare to make judgments about what constitutes welfare.

I do not want to pretend that we had no prejudices going into our work. Whereas Nordhaus and Tobin were obviously prejudiced in favor of continuing use of GNP as the basic guide to policy, we were prejudiced against this. Nevertheless, in the compilation of statistics, prejudice is not all-determining. It is striking that our index shows considerably more improvement of welfare accompanying growth of GNP during the period from the end of World War II to 1965 than does that of Nordhaus and Tobin. It is only in the more recent period that our index shows growth of GNP accompanied by static and even declining welfare.

My reason for beginning with these comments is not at all to suggest that we are able to give accurate statistical information about economic welfare. Noone can. My point is only that rough approximations to measuring economic welfare strongly suggest that the time for viewing increase in gross product as the appropriate goal for national policy is ended. I believe this to be a change of historic importance, and that the sooner we recognize this change and begin to reflect on its implications, the less the danger of self-destruction.

I have co-authored a book with Herman Daly, entitled For The Common Good, in which we suggest how a different economic goal would work out. We propose that economics should serve human community, whereas economic policies designed to increase gross product repeatedly work against human community. We also propose that the community that should be served extends beyond presently existing humanity into the future and also to the natural environment. We think that individuals are better off when the human and natural communities of which they are a part are healthy, and that the health of these communities is what policy should aim at. Of course communities that do not produce or consume sufficient goods are unhealthy. But when the increase beyond sufficiency is at the expense of community, it no longer serves real people.

One major conclusion to which we came is that an economy in the service of community must be one over which the community exercises some control. If the most important decisions about our lives, especially about our economic lives, are made by people who are not part of our community, then the community is weakened. This means that healthy communities are relatively self-reliant and self-sufficient economically.

Obviously, this flies in the face of standard economic doctrine. That doctrine has called for more and more specialization over larger and larger areas in an ever-expanding market. Whole nations are encouraged to specialize in what they produce most efficiently, importing their other needs. We know that this has rendered most of the countries in the world unable to feed themselves and hence radically dependent on international trade. The terms of this trade are little influenced by them. As a result the political independence so painfully gained by many former colonies has done little to empower their people in ways that really count.

We believe that the globalization of the market pulls our economy also in the wrong direction. We have weakened restrictions on monopolies, supposing that only very large concerns can compete with those of other economic powers. It is not evident that increasing size always improves competitive ability, but I do not mean to get into that issue. My point is rather that the justification of bigger and bigger corporations with less and less commitment to any geographical community, even the nation, works against community and true human welfare. Even if it leads to increase of gross production, which may or may not be the case, the cost to human beings and the natural world is too great. For the sake of human beings and the natural world, we need decentralization of the economy.

A decentralized economy will greatly increase the possibility for local government to become important. In a national economy, political power must be concentrated nationally or be drastically subordinated to economic power. If we continue to move from a national economy to a global one, then we must either develop much stronger concentrations of international political power or else accept a world governed by naked economic power. If we do not like either of those options, and I do not, then decentralization is the one alternative.

It is my assumption that all of you could describe in far more concrete and realistic ways than I the tension between regulations designed to encourage increased production and those that protect community, present, future, and natural. Again and again we are told that we must sacrifice what we have valued for the sake of progress, and usually "progress" means increase of gross product rather than improvement in the quality of life. We need other ways of thinking of growth and progress so that the respective merits of differing policies can be seriously debated. I think statistical measures of welfare, with all their limitations, can help in enlivening this discussion, but they are not essential.

I am not arguing that every commitment to preservation of what is is better than every proposal of change. That would be ridiculous. We want healthy change, real growth, real progress. The issue is, in what does this consist. My thesis is that we want changes that increase the identification people feel with their communities, their willingness to take responsibility, and their ability to participate in making decisions about their shared lives. This requires that they be able to take care of our economic needs, but it may not require that each year we consume more goods and services than the year before.

Probably the most powerful argument in favor of increasing production is that this is the way of bringing jobs into the community. Again and again we are forced to choose between jobs and other values such as the environment. I was recently in Oregon where feelings are running very high about restrictions on logging for the sake of preserving old-growth forests. The loggers are understandably furious that their opportunity to work is curtailed for the sake of a few owls! Since the state of Oregon has been specialized in lumber, the suggestion that the loggers be trained for other employment is too easy to make and too hard to implement. Nevertheless, I hope that the old-growth forests are preserved. Our nation has been vastly impoverished by our forestry practices over centuries. The decimation of our forests has led to enormous economic dislocations as well as many environmental losses.

It is urgent that we re-think our economic goals so as to get past the point where specific issues of this sort constantly confront us. An economics for community will be one in which human beings support themselves in a sustainable and enjoyable way while allowing much of the natural world to remain natural both for the sake of future generations and for the sake of the other species with which we should share the planet. The detailed implications for the lumber industry are beyond my expertise, but I am sure they would be radical. The cost of wood would no doubt rise from present levels. There would be some suffering and sacrifice on the part of all of us.

But this scenario should not be set over against one in which present practices continue with no sacrifices. These practices insure that in time the cost of wood will rise as much or more, while much of the beauty we have enjoyed would be gone forever, along with many already endangered species. A shift now to sustainable lumbering in designated regions, leaving others intact, can provide as many or more jobs over the long haul and a better world for all.

Obviously the same kind of tension appears with respect to grazing in much of the West. Present practices are not sustainable. To yield to pressures for present profit, knowing that this must rapidly diminish, leaving impoverished land behind, is typical of the sort of thinking has been too much encouraged by standard economic theory.

We need a different vision of the community we seek and the economy that will support it. Otherwise we will continually confront impossible dilemmas. My own view is that once we agree on a vision of what we want that can replace that of ever increasing production, it will be possible to establish overall policies of land use and taxation that will reduce the need for detailed regulation of the market. But as long as acting on perceived economic interest constantly impoverishes the future, society as a whole must do what it can to protect itself against market forces.

Although this is not the place to make detailed proposals with respect to tax policy, I will indicate my own preference for a modified Georgian system of land taxes. These taxes remove land from speculative investment and bring to the community the unearned wealth that arises from movements of population. They also can give greater economic power to local communities.

The tensions between strengthening community and seeking increased production appear also with regard to programs to attract industry. As long as bringing in new industry is identified with progress, competition with other communities to entice such industries is the name of the game. Regulations designed for the sake of the existing community are often in tension with what will attract a large corporation to invest in a new plant.

Again it is often held that this must be done for the sake of bringing in new jobs. This is an area that requires research I have not done. But I will express an impression. There may be a brief period in which the presence of the new plant reduces unemployment and increases the income of those persons already in the economy. But generally the building of the plant primarily attracts new workers to the community. After adding to the industrial base of the town or city, the population is larger. The average income may be higher. But the number of unemployed or underemployed is not likely to be reduced. This unemployment is then cited as the reason for attracting more industry. The solution to the problem does not in fact change the nature of the problem. It does increase its scale.

My impression is that when local entrepreneurs develop new businesses on a small scale, more genuine progress occurs. These local businesses are more likely to employ local people and raise local standards. They do not require special concessions. People are strengthened in their loyalty to the community and shared concern for its wellbeing. Instead of rendering the community more dependent on decisions over which it has no control, the community's self-reliance is enhanced.

I do not know how much influence public service commissioners have over matters of this sort. But I believe you are one of the groups that can work with others to affect the climate of many towns and cities. I realize that there is a vast gap between general preferences of the sort I am expressing and the immediate practical decisions with which you must deal. But I do believe they are connected. And I want to register my strong conviction that we need to work toward a bottom-up economy in which many of the necessities of life are produced locally by individuals and companies that have their roots in the communities and do not see progress as meaning going national and global. To whatever extent governmental policies and regulations can encourage this kind of community, I hope that they will do so. Seeking to solve the supposed need for growth in a community by attracting outside capital investment generally leads to the wrong sort of growth.

One of the reasons, only one, that I favor local initiatives and control and a decentralized economy is that it can slow down the exhaustion of fossil fuels and survive the necessary transition to solar energy. Indeed, pioneering small scale uses of solar energy is one of the frontiers for local entrepreneurship. As transporting necessities, including fossil fuels, around the world by the use of fossil fuels becomes more and more expensive, the advantages of local production will become more apparent. Also small scale production often needs far less energy than mass production. Horses are returning to many smaller farms. Food sold in a farmers' market does not require the costly packaging for which we pay so much. And incidentally, the food may be tastier and more nutritious.

Furthermore, some substitution of human labor for fossil fuels absorbs unemployed workers. It is interesting that those who argue so vigorously for new plants as ways of bringing jobs do not often argue in favor of substituting labor-intensive for energy-intensive means of production in either farm or factory. The problem, they tell us, is that this reduces productivity, and that improved productivity is the key to economic progress.

Here we come full circle. The economic progress to which improved productivity is the key is increased production. If we are committed to increased production, we must accept the process of substituting fossil fuels for human labor. Then we must bring in more industry to absorb the labor no longer needed. But if we do not follow this scenario, if we stay with means of production that are more labor-intensive, others who do follow the scenario will underprice us and put us out of business altogether. It seems that only in a community that has some control over its own economic life can there be freedom to decide about the respective roles of human labor and fossil energy.

Since it is not now possible for communities to protect themselves against global market forces, the main support for new patterns of production with reduced use of fossil fuels will be the rising cost of those fuels. Rather than wait for the abrupt and drastic rise the future will inevitably bring, I am convinced we should have a fairly rapid planned rise in this cost from year to year. This can be effected by taxes. Such a plan could enable businesses to make their own plans knowing what the relative costs of fossil fuels, solar energy, and human labor are likely to be over time. In this way economic forces could support rather than inhibit the necessary shift away from an oil-dependent economy.

An economics for community will not affect market activity alone. It will also call for new ways of ordering and organizing our shared life. Let us focus on the crucial issue of shifting away from dependence on oil without recourse to other dangerous and environmentally destructive fuels. Although relatively benign use of solar energy can help, the most important matter is the reduction of total energy use. Our hope must be that we can reduce the use of energy without reducing the quality of life, indeed, while enhancing it. How can this be done?

I have already suggested two answers. First, produce more of what we need locally, thereby saving the energy needed for packaging and transportation. Second, use small scale production facilities, such as family farms, where human and animal energy can replace some of the fossil fuels now employed. This is related to a shift to organic farming that greatly reduces the use of fossil energy in pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers.

A third step, is energy efficiency. Amory and Hunter Lovins have showed us innumerable ways in which we can attain the same end use with far less energy input. This is both a matter of more efficient electric appliances and cars, and a matter of constructing buildings in such a way that far less energy is needed for heating and cooling.

A fourth step is planning cities of a different type. Living in southern California I am painfully aware that this whole megalopolis has been planned around the freeway and the private car. Obviously other cities have grown up around subways and trains to a much greater extent, but we all know that during recent decades the trend has been in the direction of Los Angeles. This needs to be reversed. There are, of course, some examples of planned communities that embody the needed changes to some extent.

My own view is that nothing yet done goes far enough. The goal should be to plan a habitat in which the lack of a private car would be no sacrifice at all. That would be a habitat in which all the desirable destinations were readily accessible quickly on foot or by convenient and inexpensive transportation. This habitat should also be designed to make maximum use of the most benign form of energy, passive solar energy. And of course it should be designed so as to facilitate the development of stable and satisfying community life.

I know of only one thinker who has envisioned the sort of habitat that is required. That thinker is Paolo Soleri. Thus far he has been treated as an artist-dreamer, and he is certainly that. But he is also presenting practical solutions to an extremely urgent set of problems. It is past time to experiment with the implementation of his proposals. Or, for those who do not like his solutions, the time has come to accept them as a challenge to come up with better ones.

Perhaps you will now see why I have been so concerned to opposee the habit of thinking that increase in gross product is essential to true growth. Implementation of the proposals I have made would reduce the GNP. This is for the obvious reason that energy costs are an important ingredient in the GNP so that reduced use of energy directly reduces GNP. I hope it is clear that I believe that such reductions can be effected without reducing economic wellbeing. But reduction of GNP would be even more drastic if we built cities in such a way that private cars and motor transportation in general were not needed. Again, I hope it is clear that I do not believe that living in one of Soleri's arcologies without a car would make me poorer in any way that counts in comparison with living in a suburb and commuting into Los Angeles. My point is that I would need less income to live an equally comfortable and, I believe actually, a more enjoyable life. Certainly the quality of community in an arcology is likely to be superior to that in most suburbs.

I have now made enough controversial proposals to evoke some reaction. I am very interested in some of the specific proposals I have made with respect to the direction in which we should go, and I will be pleased to hear your responses. But my main concern is to call for a fundamental debate about the kind of growth we want. I am deeply convinced that the GNP does not measure the kind of growth I want, and when people understand clearly what it does and does not measure, I feel rather confident they will agree that it does not measure the kind of growth they want either.

The growth we do want, or at least the growth we should want, is in getting more good living and strong community with less use of resources including sinks, and while allowing more space for the other species with which we share this planet. Thus far efforts in this direction are a sideshow; but they must become the main event. To make this shift in thought and practice is a challenge of utmost importance. Every policy should be measured against that goal, and the technical expertise of the nation, indeed of the world, should be directed to that end. Much can be done, and some of it can be done rather quickly. But little of it will be done until the understanding of growth is changed. The sooner, the better.

Economism as Idolatry

 

From the mid-seventeenth century to the mid-twentieth century nationalism was the dominant force in Western history. It took over from Christianity when Christian fanaticism plunged Europe into appalling and intolerable conflicts. The era of nationalism came to an end when it, in turn, plunged Europe and the whole world into appalling and intolerable conflicts.

After World War II the institutions that rose to dominance were economic ones: The International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. Although the United Nations is a partial exception, it also devotes much of its attention to the global economy. When the heads of the most powerful nations gather, they call their meetings Economic Summits. Western Europe reorganized itself as the European Economic Community.

There are many advantages in having shifted from nationalism to economism. War among the Western powers soon became unthinkable. The economic power of the West played a major role in undermining the Soviet Empire, so that now the danger of major international conflict has drastically receded. The focus on the economy has led to a vast increase it total global production.

Unfortunately, the methods employed in this great success story do not bring wealth to all. On the contrary, they increase the gap between the rich and the poor and render many of the poor more powerless and more destitute than ever before. Everywhere traditional communities are destroyed and new communities are prevented from putting down roots. Social alienation, violence, and self-destruction accelerate.

Our leaders, fully committed to economism, assure us that the solution of these problems lies in pursuing even more singlemindedly the neoliberal economic policies that have produced them. Astonishingly, this myth is widely accepted. Many of those who know it is false see no alternatives. They propose meliorative responses to the worst of the evils.

The absurdity of this approach is even more apparent in regard to the environment. The size of the economy in relation to the biosphere and geosphere is already excessive. The natural environment cannot sustain the current rate of resource use and pollution. To increase the size of the economy five to ten fold, as proposed by the Brundtland report will prove impossible. This is so, even if all the excellent proposals of that report to use resources more efficiently and to pollute less were implemented.

Economism is leading us into catastrophes even worse that the religious wars of the early seventeenth century and the Second World War in our own. The number of people who recognize this is increasing, and their passionate protests in the name of the Earth have gained some hearing. In the United States, however, the critique of economism by Earthists has not yet had political impact. The alternatives have not been publicly debated.

Nevertheless, some change has occurred. Although the Reagan and Bush administrations were not anti-environment per se (Bush claimed he would be our environmental president!), environmental issues were extremely peripheral to their consciousness. They saw reality in almost exclusively economistic terms. Those who complained about what this did to the environment were always outsiders who seemed to be putting obstacles in the way of economic progress. They were willing to act for the environment as long as this did not inhibit economic growth in any way. But for practical purposes this meant that they normally opposed environmental concerns.

The Democratic administration that succeeded Bush was elected on a program to improve the economy. "Its the economy, stupid" was the reminder to the candidates, should they stray off on other topics. Environmental concerns played a very minor role in the campaign. Nevertheless, everyone knew that the new administration would pay more attention to environmental issues.

The deep assumption of the Clinton/Gore administration is that we can follow the economistic policies carried out so consistently by their Republican predecessors but do so with sensitivity to the environment. The rhetoric of sustainable development is meaningful to them as it was not Reagan and Bush, who followed the traditional economic theory that the increase of capital enables humanity to deal with problems of resource exhaustion and pollution. Clinton and Gore know that unrestricted abuse of the environment is too costly to be compensated by indiscriminate economic growth. They want the growth to take place in ways that does not add so drastically to environmental stress.

Whereas for Reagan and Bush economistic goals were the goals, for Clinton and Gore they continue to be the dominant goals but environmental health is also an important goal that may require limitations to the pursuit of economic gain. Whereas Bush sided with the lumber industry in the Pacific Northwest, Clinton and Gore sought a compromise between the interests of industry and the preservation of some of the old growth forests of the Northwest. They paid attention to the best scientific studies of what is required for the maintenance of eco-systems, even if they did not entirely follow the resultant recommendations. In short they are prepared for trade-offs between short-term economistic goals and environmental ones.

Nevertheless, there is no sign that they have understood the incompatibility of the economistic goal of unlimited economic growth with the Earthist one of preserving the planet for future generations of both humans and other creatures. Hence they gave themselves wholeheartedly to pushing through the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) basically in the form it had been negotiated by Bush. The argument for NAFTA is, of course, that it will promote economic growth. That what promotes general growth is good, however destructive of communities and however inequitable the distribution of wealth, is not questioned any more by this administration that by its predecessors.

The difference between the present administration and the previous one is expressed in the negotiation of side agreements. This administration does care about the suffering that results for workers who lose their jobs and it does care about the weakening of environmental protection that is entailed in free trade. Hence, it insisted on structures that would consider issues of this sort alongside the dominant structure whose function it is to promote trade.

The side agreement on labor will have trivial effects unless the United States government decided to use it as a platform for bringing pressure on Mexico. This is unlikely. The side agreement on the environment also lacks teeth, and the speed with which it was negotiated indicates that the signatories did not expect it to have much effect on their main goals. Nevertheless, the symbolic expression of concern embodied in this side-agreement, and the existence of a new type of institution may provide a context from bringing environmental issues into trade considerations in new ways. Because the present U.S. administration includes so many who care about these matters, there is certainly a chance that this will occur.

The possibility that this side agreement can be a vehicle of significant progress in integrating environmental considerations into issues of international trade led to a deep split within the environmental community. Those with specific and more limited goals, which are prepared to accept the basic economistic character of our civilization and work within it, supported the administration in pushing NAFTA through a reluctant Congress. Others who recognize that this whole economistic program is inherently destructive of the environmental, those whom I call Earthists, continued to work with labor to oppose NAFTA.

The passage of NAFTA strengthens North America in its competition with East Asia and Europe. It secures the already developing pattern of combining U.S. capital with cheap Mexican labor and still healthy Mexican soils so as to produce goods cheaply for international consumption. The downward pressure on wages in the United States and Canada will be accompanied by a downward pressure on wages in those regions with which North America is in economic competition. There will be downward pressure also on workplace conditions and environmental standards. More seriously the increased production will speed up the exhaustion of nonrenewable resources and make more difficult the attainment of sustainable use of renewable ones. Economic power will be concentrated in fewer and fewer hands, and it will be less affected by political power. From the point of view of Earthism, all of this is movement in just the wrong direction.

In this respect there is a convergence of Earthism with standard Christian teaching. Christians emphasize the positive value of human community. We advocate the principle of subsidiarity. We hold to the preferential option for the poor. And we affirm the integrity of creation and the human use of the environment should be sustainable. The effects of the policies implementing economism, such as the globalization of the economy through free trade, are diametrically opposed to all of these Christian principles. Perhaps more environmentalists will come to recognize the need to be Earthists in a more fundamental way, and perhaps more Christians will recognize that economism is a form of idolatry every bit as pernicious as nationalism. If so, there is a chance that we may in this country generate a debate about fundamental national goals that is not limited to how to make the economy grow faster. Since there are those in high places in our administration who are both sincere Christians and sincere environmentalist, such a debate could affect national policy. To date this has not happened.

Media: Their Structure and Moral and Public Policy Import

Definitions

"Media" is the plural of "medium." "Media" is shorthand for "mass media of communication" in advanced technological society. "Medium" refers to a single method of encoding and delivering messages to a broad public; thus, radio is a medium, television is a medium, newspapers constitute one medium; lumping together radio and television in all their forms give us the electronic media; agglomerating newspapers and magazines gives us the print media. Both print and electronic media in all their forms make up "the media" tout court. Note that this physical conception of the media is essentially technological, that is, each of the media is not defined merely as the end product in the hands of the consumer/reader/viewer. Each medium is defined as an integrated system of invention, composition, presentation, and delivery. As a mass medium, newspapers must be seen as a factory system of daily predictable output that involves brains, hands, paper, ink, steel and wheels. Borrowing from computer terminology, the media are hardware systems for handling the software of information, enlightenment, entertainment. Generally, one speaks of the media in an all-inclusive sense that embraces both the physical system and its delivered messages, often called programming (from electronic media) or content (from print media).

"The medium is the message," a phrase of Marshall McLuhan’s that the media have made universally known, should be understood therefore in two senses: first, the final display method or format of mass mediated programming has a determining or at least limiting effect on whatever is said or shown on the medium; second, the integrated technological organization of a given medium invites or discourages certain types of messages, programming, or content processed through the system because of the system’s own internal needs. Thus, on a system where time is money, the sound-bite, slogan, or jingle is the preferred unit of political meaning; on a system where central control is paramount, interminable speeches from the maximum leader are preferred. But given the choice, viewers will prefer the diverting jingle over the long speech because of the display capabilities of the medium. There is no market for bootlegged television speeches of Castro in New York, but MTV is worldwide and contraband videos of cause-related rock concerts are globally popular. Singapore, a centrally controlled authoritarian city-state where time is money, uses its media to enforce policy through slickly produced television minutes, filled with music, handsome young people, and the vacuous hope that marks product advertising in the West.

Rapid advances in communication technology have blurred the distinctions among media systems. More and more print media are processed electronically and the same kind of computer systems process words, music, images, and format displays. This is reflected in ownership patterns, where the same company, like Sony, manufactures recording and display hardware and contracts musicians to own the final "product:" recorded songs or music videos. Newspaper empires often include television stations and satellite systems that can distribute not only television and radio but digitally encoded newspapers, including layout and typeface, to receiving printing plants around the world. Cable system operators buy film studios so they can have a stock of software for their hardware.

The mass media of communication have enormous costs of maintenance which require either state support or commercial revenue or some combination of the two. Whatever the source of support, its size can only be justified by an equally enormous efficiency, return on investment or palpable political effects on the populace. The mass media thus tend to be servants of the established order and legitimizers of the status quo whether they glamorize British royalty, urge higher Russian production quotas, encourage smaller Chinese families, or happiness-through-purchase in America.

These enormous trends toward centralization and homogeneity still do permit room for the occasional "auteur" film of individual artistry, the profoundly critical television documentary, the journalistic exposé of corruption in high places, and other examples of independent thinking or original art. But the audience for such works is limited. The book, for so long the intellectual medium for innovation, discovery, and critical awareness, has become part of the book business, which has fallen, necessarily, to the "blockbuster syndrome." Great books and good books are still published and some even turn a profit, but the book business is increasingly prey to the bottom line which is enhanced by the reflections of, and narrations about, celebrities from other media.

There is a significant but relatively minute counter-trend to such mainstream monoliths. New technologies centered around the increasingly more powerful personal computer are enabling smaller entrepreneurs and public interest groups to publish newsletters and produce radio and video cassettes of an "alternative" provenance that criticizes the mainstream. Green, feminist, gay, and some minority religious movements have made effective use of "alternative media" in the West, as have outlawed political oppositionist movements from South Africa to Sri Lanka. By being user-friendly, communication production relying on such "desktop" techniques demystifies the process and encourages non-professional use. But the media system is one of distribution as well as production and the former seems firmly in the control of large entities: corporations, major religions, and nation-states.

Converging ownerships, interlocking technologies, and a common mass consumption all conspire to join the various media into one great media system. This is observed in the increasing legitimacy of "media" as a singular noun, which conjures up the image of a television supermarket, with hundreds, thousands, millions of screens all showing the same picture at once, with legions of speakers playing the same rock music, all promoting a film showing in hundreds of thousands of small identical theaters worldwide on the same day. The media is the medium.

 Principal Ideas

 An enormous amount of research has been aimed at the media by both its exploiters and its critics. Advertisers, media owners, and their managers are greatly concerned about the numbers of people they reach, about what kinds of messages move people to act the way they want, and about the inclination of those they reach to return to the same media source. Because of the presumed motives of those who commission it, this type of research is often termed "administrative," and it is conceptually based on the transmission model of communication. A message is aimed at a specific target through a given medium with some kind of effect. A variant of this is the (Harold) Lasswell formula: Who says what to whom with what effect? — a formula at least as old as Quintilian.

This conceptualization is result-oriented and sees communication as producing effects, much as fertilizer grows grass or cue balls knock eight balls. Thus the "effectiveness" of media campaigns to get people to buy soap or adopt birth control or vote Conservative is what is sought to be measured and the measure is tangible and finite: so many votes, so many (less) children, so many boxes of detergent. The psychological theory underpinning this kind of research is most often functionalism, which sees all voluntary human activity as motivated by the desire to find out what is going on, by the need to get along with others, and by the urge to work out internal conflicts through some external symbol system. The last "function" is explicitly Freudian in premise and much programming, self-consciously or instinctively, exploits feelings connected with sex, self-esteem, or insecurity to motivate consumers.

Although administrative research still constitutes the vast bulk of media research because of the resources of business, government, and other large organizations who command media, there is a growing body of research springing from an entirely different set of concerns. These are the fears and grievances of those out of the power loop of media control and the desires of social critics and intellectuals to understand the meaning and significance of media among individuals, societies, and cultures. Although in fact there is no reason why the transmission model could not be used for much of this research - as it is, for instance, in studying the effects of pornography on youth - the preponderant model leans away from the concern for concrete mechanical effects characteristic of the transmission model and leans toward what is loosely termed the ritualistic model. This model is more akin to anthropology and other cultural studies (as the other is closer to engineering and sociology). Here the interest is in discovering what kind of mentality is encouraged by the daily ritual of being exposed to mass media, with the emphasis on television, the most powerful and pervasive of the mass media in the industrialized world (and second only to radio, which it is overtaking, in the developing world). "Mentality" embraces a broad sweep of cognate concepts: "consciousness," "values," "social character," "psychological type," "psychographics," "political awareness," "leisure competence," and so forth. These in turn entail a variety of methods, including that of the literary or theatrical critic.

Because much of the pioneering work in this type of research was done by members of the Frankfurt School of Social Research (notably H. Marcuse, M. Hochheimer, T. Adorno, W. Benjamin), known for so-called Critical Theory, the great variety of this research is distinguished from the administrative by calling it critical research, following the distinction made in 1941 by Paul Lazarsfeld, a pioneer of modern administrative research.

 Development

News is a common feature of most media systems around the world and its transformations illustrate the nature of modern media systems as well as the guiding models for understanding media.

As the name implies, news is information about some recent event, deviating from expected routine. In the ancient world, official messengers brought news of military victory or defeat, natural disasters, notice of future unscheduled events. But for the most part, routine ruled human affairs and "news" as we think we know it began with business, when trading associations in Northern Europe shared information about commodity prices and other conditions that would affect profit, developing newsletters with the new print technology.

Mass media news is descended from this basic human practice of sharing and spreading information, but modern high technology and the political economy it serves have altered its nature.

First, news promulgation is now part of an industrial process which needs predictability and continuity. Thus, newspapers and news programs appear at an invariant daily, even hourly, schedule, with roughly the same amount of space and time allotted to news on a continuing basis. If there is some unprecedented cataclysm, more time or space may be allotted, but rarely is the news curtailed merely because fewer events happened. News has become a manufactured commodity, so its content is made to fit the amount of time or space routinely allotted for it. This, of course, changes the nature to news from that of the unexpected to that of the routine, for the most part. The characters may change and details may vary, but a relatively constant mix of crime, politics, entertainment, and business affairs will be stretched or shrunk to fit its Procrustean medium. The designers of the format of the news, even if guided solely by system needs of predictability and control, still have had an impact on what people will think about, the categories under which they will arrange their experience, and so forth. Media technology affects thought.

News program managers, relying on administrative research, have discovered that in fact people who look at television news, for instance, do not do so in order to stay abreast of current affairs so much as they seek company and reassurance in a society that is increasingly mobile and without the marketplace or waterwell for friendly gossip and storytelling.

So the nature of the news program is adjusted, now requiring attractive and friendly news-presenters, who joke and chat among themselves with an inclusive nod to the camera. They advise one on cooking, dining out, making friends, staying healthy. But these "news teams" are paid companions, whose loyalty is not to their audiences but to their employers, who in turn are answerable to advertisers and/or the state. Their cozy personal advice thus often dovetails with advertised products or the government's current theme for public cooperation, be it paying taxes early or recycling trash or avoiding excessive cholesterol. The news has in this way become a format for socialization and acculturation in no small measure.

What is true of news is true of entertainment, education, or religion processed by the media system: the technology of the medium creates formats that are shaped for maximum effect by administrative research into a ritual whose ultimate social and cultural (and, therefore, moral and ethical impact) is analysed by critical research.

Ethical and Moral Issues

One must distinguish between moral and ethical issues that arise within the context of the media and those that are raised by the nature of the system.

Among the former we have a very familiar list of legitimate concerns:

The differential rights of individuals, corporations, and governments to secrecy versus the public’s right to know.

Objectivity and fairness in coverage of controversial issues.

The effects of pornography and other portrayals of objectionable or criminal acts on the impressionable.

The validity of advertising claims and the exploitation of certain basic insecurities as a motivation for buying marginal products

News management and influence peddling on the part of government, business, labor, churches, or any powerful interest group.

The rights of journalists to protect their sources and their unpublished notes (in whatever medium) from unauthorized use.

The obligations of journalists to reveal information to appropriate authority to protect life and property.

The "morally correct" behaviour to be sought among these settings is usually obvious from commonplace sources and does not require any "special media ethics." Various professional guilds, trade associations, and public interest groups have come up with guidelines for proper behaviour that cover most of the common cases under the above rubrics, honored though some may be more in the breach.

Far from obvious are the ethically appropriate approaches to the problems of pornography, glamourized violence, and stereotyping of any kind, especially racial or sexual. But the moral complexity does not spring so much from the nature of media as from the nature of art and fiction: Portrayal as an invitation to imitation or justification for immoral behaviour is a thorny problematic that both antedates and exceeds the context of modern media as such. In general, the transmission model has been applied here most unfruitfully, because its mechanistic presuppositions have led to the imposition or violation of taboos (nudity, Grand Guignolism, etc.).

In other words, almost all of the above cases can be adequately dealt with in principle within the common expectations of the system: if the media work properly, they will behave properly. It is a matter of adjustment, power, and will — not so much understanding.

This is not true for those issues raised by the very nature of the system: when the media work properly, they may behave improperly and in some cases they may necessarily so behave.

The growing indispensability of mass media for reaching electorates, political parties, church congregations, the entire youth population and even widely dispersed intellectuals, has forced not only politicians but educators, clergy, and scientists to join merchants in adapting their messages to fit the exigencies of the media system. Surviving Eastern bloc politicians as well as electronic preachers have a common need for media consultants.

These media adaptations reach back into the substance of the senders and alter, in varying degrees, politics, religion, education. Even dissent and avant-gardism must now define themselves as over against mainstream media content and programming, which gives an unearned cachet to willed obscurantism.

In what senses are these developments for good or ill?

As we have seen, the techno-logic of mass media hardware is to reach larger and larger audiences. In principle, the drive of the machine is to reach everybody in the world simultaneously with the same message. The political economies within which media operate also mandate maximum use either for maximum profit or maximum control. The software must follow the hardware. And the software is nothing less than the symbolic transmission of culture.

Over the years, therefore, mass media have developed a language of their own, a meta-language, if you will, that may have local dialects of French or Chinese or Urdu. The curse of Babylon fragments the world audience, so it must be somehow overcome: the point of the meta-language is therefore accessibility; it must be readily understood by the largest number of people.

The image, as film distributors learned early, transcends the limitations of words. Nonetheless, as they later learned, even images have a cultural setting. Thus, for truly international distribution, films had to have slightly different versions so as not to offend local taboos. In multi-ethnic markets, advertising agencies have set up departments to research the effects of images and words on cultural sensitivities. The Chinese, as legend has it, were thus saved from marketing a car called The Lemon and male underwear called Pansies to English-speaking cultures.

The ideal of the media meta-language, let us call it mediaspeak, is to come as close as possible to a transcultural, a-historical, assumption free Esperanto, that evokes no particular heritage or tradition. It aspires to be the broader equivalent of those indispensable graphic icons at international airports for toilets, luggage, cocktails, cabs and medical assistance. The export and import of consumer goods for supermarket shelves, the internationalization of personal computers with a common user icon-driven interface abet the global demand for a common reductive language.

But language is also the vehicle for morality, judgment, subtle analysis, religious tradition. The Christian cross or the Buddha are symbols; they have subtle evocative meanings, a penumbra of connotations. Airport graphics are not symbols, but signals, extensions of traffic directions for those already launched on a decided course. Mediaspeak strips language of its symbolic meanings, of its historical and traditional resonances, and pares words and pictures down to signals. It is an ideal system for selling products and a very ideal system for dictatorships and dirigiste regimes.

This single development has multiple moral effects. Vast treasures have been spent by a bankrupt United States on the Strategic Defense Initiative, an adolescent fantasy of total protection that scores of serious scientists have scorned as both dangerous and meretricious. But the cartoon graphics of "Star Wars" in mass media have maintained sufficient support among the people to force a sceptical Congress to authorize continued billions of dollars.

The published statistics on Patriot missile effectiveness in the Middle East indicate miserable failure, but the pictures have mobilized not only cheering mass support, but serious arms sales among professional dealers.

While noting the force of images of suffering to mobilize aid for disaster victims, one must remember that the images often obscure the culprits and causes of the suffering so that symptoms are inadequately addressed while causes are blithely ignored, as in Ethiopia, Iraq, the Sudan and Bangladesh.

These and other examples of the moral threat of mediaspeak in the contexts of religion, education, politics, and science abound — all occasions when the media system operates as everyone expects it to.

The quotidian ethical problems of the media business require serious attention, but they are minuscule before the tidal wave of a-moral de-culturalization the global media system is creating.

 

Bibliography

 

Barry, John A. (1991) Technobabble, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Chomsky, N. (1991) Deterring Democracy, London: Verso.

Diamond, E. (1991) The Media Show, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Entman, Robert M. (1991) Democracy Without Citizens: Media and the Decay of American Politics, New York: Oxford University Press.

McQuail, Denis (1987) Mass Communication Theory, London: Sage

__________ and Siune, K. (eds.) (1986) New Media Politics: Comparative Perspectives in Western Europe, London: Sage.

Phelan, J.M. (1980) Disenchantment: Meaning and Morality in the Media, New York: Hastings House.

__________ (1987) Apartheid Media: Disinformation and Dissent in South Africa, A Lawrence Hill Book. Chicago: Chicago Review Press.

Schiller, Herbert I. (1989) Culture, Inc.: The Corporate Takeover of Public Expression, New York: Oxford University Press.

Schneider, L., and Wallis, B. (eds.) (1991) Global Television,
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

 

 

John M. Phelan, Ph.D., is director of the Donald McGannon Communication Research Center and Professor of Communications at Fordham University in New York. A member of American PEN’s Freedom to Write Committee and the American Civil Liberties Union National Media Committee, he is writer/commentator of WFUV-FM’s weekly radio Politics of Media and hosts conferences on international media and ethics.

 

The Pseudo-Content of the Processed Image

With the rapid march of digitization, fiber-optics and satellite distribution systems, all media are becoming electronic. Because of its early history of identification with voice and picture formats, the broadcast style of electronics, particularly television, with its concern for telling images, will enlarge its domination of all communication content, whatever the physical means of distribution. A further reason for this style of mixed multimedia is the greater accessibility of images for broader audiences of different language groups and of uncertain literacy.

In this context, then, we can look at the modern electronically transmitted (and, increasingly, electronically created) image as the unit of media distribution with the greatest currency and, I shall argue, authority.

This authority of the electronic image poses ethical and moral problems of profound dimension because of its divorce from the language base of all ethical traditions, which flow from spoken oral traditions and written canons, from the Pentateuch to the Analects.. It is significant that at a common stage of development, religious traditions are suspicious, if not condemnatory, of images, graven or otherwise.

Let us take a look at the modern status of the image.

Simon Schama, Mellon Professor of Social Science at Harvard, generally uses no verbal notes for his university lectures. He does, however, have thousands of carefully prepared slides of images which serve as the organizing thread for his oral commentary. Schama is the author of the widely praised Dead Certainties, which recounts the political power of Benjamin West’s dramatic painting of General Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham outside Quebec City, dying at the moment of defeating the French. Schama shows how this theatrically composed picture replaced the reality of the General’s death, and thus the significance of his life and of the battle he fought, in the minds of generation after generation of schoolboys to suit the political mythology of the British Empire. Schama’s writing illustrates the long history of image as propaganda just as his teaching method demonstrates the current ascendancy of image in the context of postmodern intellectual life.

The current electronic image is of course not confined to versions of the political poster. Sir Arthur Eddington, the distinguished scientist who championed relativity and whose career spanned the intellectually fecund turn of the century, claimed that no scientific theory was comprehensible if you could not build a model of it. Subsequent arcane formulations of relativity and quantum mechanics defeated Eddington’s criterion; no model could have been built of them. They could be apprehended only with the unimaginable precision of mathematical formulae. But now, sixty years after Eddington’s death, dazzling new computer graphics programs can construct multicolored and moving models of the most abstruse formulae, surpassing the wildest dreams of Descartes. For such programs, the imaginative envisioning of multivariate statistical information is comparative child’s play.

In many cases, computer imaging provides pilots, surgeons, architects, machine toolmakers, heavy construction supervisors, steel mill operators, high tech color printing operators and an increasing number of technicians and professionals with the only means for them to "see what they are doing."

Of course, the image most often is associated with entertainment and propaganda, but my belief is that the increasing use of images as the key to understanding complex concepts, combined with the knowledge that many of the most powerful and intelligent workers in our society use images to control the real world of bricks and steel, is giving the representation and the reproduction an authority that eclipses, in wild paradox, firsthand, unmediated, eyewitness experience. People who may be sceptical about television news often accept without question what the display screen of their computer information service tells them. And once something is printed or broadcast, it joins "the great news database in the sky" [=satellite networked computers]. By a strange process, the further one gets from the reality, the more processed the information gets, the more authority it assumes, a development satirically anticipated in E.M. Forster’s long-forgotten "The Machine Stops, " from The Celestial Omnibus.

The virtue of the computer-processed image is that it strips away the inessential to enable the surgeon or engineer to concentrate on his single-minded purpose. The vice of the media-processed image in covering politics, art, education — most of the world in which we live and act — is that it strips away the moral-historical context to leave the citizen-viewer with Brute Event as Truth.

The heart-rending images of war-ravaged Kurds may have mobilized international aid but could picture neither the causes nor the culprits of the pain and so could not serve as correctives. The true context of history, wrapped in value-laden local languages, is replaced by the pseudo-context of media images, drafted to meet the immediate needs of the powers that control, or merely the convenience of technicians that operate, the electronic media system.

This pseudo-context, in other words, is either deliberately concocted by image-mongers and wordsmiths in the employ of an interested party, like a government or powerful corporation, or it is insouciantly dictated by cinematic cliche taken from fiction. Both procedures sculpted Operation Desert Storm, which was presented as (1) a desert campaign of World War II, Hollywood-style, complete with tanks in the sunset, and tearful homecoming, parades; and (2) the Nintendo War, a game without victims or purpose. But there were no pictures of the Mutlaa massacre: too reminiscent of Hiroshima or Dresden, too historical.

So the moral and ethical challenge is to somehow reintroduce values into the technological, and thus political, contextualizing of processed images, to restore the dissected and desiccated token to the water of life, to the moral universe, the real world which permits us to be truly human.•

 

 

 

 

John M. Phelan is Director of the Donald McGannon Communications Research Center and Professor of Communications at Fordham University. The above piece is adapted from his "Image Industry Erodes Political Space," Media Development 4/91. Further expansion on these ideas will be found in Phelan’s contributions, "Media" and "Advertising", in the forthcoming Routledge Dictionary of Theology and Society, eds. Paul A.B. Clarke and Andrew Linzey.

Cyberwalden

Summary:

Cyberspace is a new field for old dreams. It is the latest meeting place for both doing things together and trying to figure out, as we never cease to do, where we really are. Where the word comes from will help us to understand where we might be going with it.

 

Norbert Wiener, the child prodigy and mathematical wizard who formulated the basis for the engineering of "feedback" into so many of the devices we associate with computer assisted living, from cruise control to the "smart house," gave his pathfinding book, The Human Use of Human Beings, the prescient subtitle of Cybernetics and Society

Wiener, who had wanted to become a medical doctor, found he was unable to properly slice sections for up-to-standard microscopic slides (an essential task for all medical students in those days). He could not do so not because he had unsteady hands, but because his vision was very poor. His eureka was to realize that his hand and eye formed a loop of control and adjustment; a feedback loop, he called it, realizing it was an essential component of all activity, because all activity is interactivity (Wiener 1954). Feedback then began to be consciously engineered into all sorts of devices and was used metaphorically in the social sciences and group psychology. But it is important to note that the essential note of feedback is one of control-effect. Hence the term Cybernetics. The Greek root, guber-, also forms the gov- in government. Cyber indicates control-effect through interactivity.

This is the essential note of cyberspace: people controlling devices through computers that give them the feeling of feedback as if the devices were parts of their own bodies. The defining characteristic of the later notion of virtual reality is not its visual verisimilitude, but its feedback and its acceptance of our manipulations. We can see a brilliantly realistic HDTV rendering of rainbow populated coral reefs, but we can have the illusion of swimming and catching fish inside the rather crude representations of much lower-bit renderings of Virtual Surfing. We just don’t witness it, we live in it. That’s what makes it more "real" than the admitted greater vividness of HDTV.

Projection of our own body parts into inanimate tools and devices is an essential human experience of feedback, since our senses always strive to be transparent. Anyone who drives knows that a sedan "feels" different from a hot sports car because it "responds" more sensitively to our control. The gears translate gas pedal pressure more immediately and delicately to engine rpm’s. Transparent tight feedback is a sign of control. The machine is part of us. So, too, in sports. The better the athlete, the less mental distance between her and racquet or golf club. The best athletes transparently project their intentions to the flying tennis or golf ball after they have lost any "real" contact with it. It is like breathing or walking for them. Likewise, great performers so project personality out from the stage that they devour the audience.

Once computers, through video screens, began to give real-time feedback to operators, this sense of feel, of self-projection, inevitably followed. That’s one of the main reasons we demand so much more speed from our chips than we need (for most of the programs actually used): the immediacy of the response makes it more transparent, more like a bit of ourselves, and thus greatly enhances our own interior neural net’s natural tendency to integrate with the machine. Anne McCaffrey, over twenty-five years ago, wrote of immense space ships that had handicapped and otherwise helpless human beings hard-wired into their central computer control so that the ships could be seen as either enormously bionic humans or wetware operated hardware (McCaffrey 1969).

This neural integration is getting tighter and tighter in cyberspace. Although most of the net is accessed today through a kind of super DOS-hell of maddeningly slow menu selections and arcane command strings and absurdly unmemorable E-mail addresses, three developments are changing it. First is the growth of friendly GUI (Graphic User Interfaces) started at Xerox Parc twenty years ago, used by Apple for the past decade, and now coming to the PC world through NT Windows™ and its successor, called for now Chicago. The exponential explosion of microchip speed and sophistication (Pentium™, Power PC™ and beyond) gives enough speed and power to enhance these GUI’s from sort of primitive kindergarten sketches to the more sophisticated graphics of full-motion video and superpaint toolbox stations. Finally, the building of the so-called Information Superhighway is providing sufficient bandwidth on most links to accommodate such heavy signal loads. Once the interface philosophy of America On Line , Mosaic and Pipeline is teamed up with the full access to the net denied on most commercial services and humanizes the nerdland of TCP/IP and other gateway software, the illusion of being plugged-in to some kind of world will be hard to resist.

These technologies then enable us to experience control ("cyber-") as a projection of self out of our center, from our wills, into something else. That something else, that field of activity, is space. It is real because it is independent of us but paradoxically more real because it also responds to us. It has dimensions that are real only because they can be probed. There is no perfect tee-shot without a green to go to.

The sense of projected bodily power onto a field, so readily grasped in sports, is thus naturally best and most easily translated into a game on a screen. From there it is a short reach to make the screen the world or environment for all action. This feature was one of the first to be exploited after video games — the adventure or story world in which the reader became a participant. The game player becomes the role player — but an active one whose moves, as in a game, will certainly affect the outcome of the story. And so the real-time responding screen becomes a field where one’s actions produce outcomes and further enhance the metaphor and the illusion of control through or in a space — cyberspace. The wedding of two old activities — game playing and vicarious living through fiction — transforms each. Fiction not only becomes interactive, it becomes collaborative, a kind of team sport.

The word cyberspace in its roots thus well describes any space that is a field for human effects through environmental interaction. But it has in fact been restricted to a certain type of human effect field — that of computer-mediated electronic tele-effects, most of them in the form of symbol exchange. "Cyberspace" is not unlike "technology" in that respect. Technology properly refers to any human organization of tool use, from chipping flints in the cave to cadcaming microchips in Silicon Valley. But it is almost always presumed to mean high technology of recent vintage. Also like "technology" , "cyberspace" evokes a shared space of common goals, for the human world requires both witness and collaboration, surveillance and competition.

Some years ago, commenting on the seminal work of Innis, McLuhan, Havelock, Ong and others, I suggested that television and radio in communicating through what Ong called Secondary Orality, had created a world of Secondary Tribalism (Phelan 1980). That is, observers and call-ins on broadcast material participated without really being present and had the illusion of social interaction while remaining alone and, in any true political sense, impotent. My point at the time was that what was being touted as a brave new world of possibilities was in many ways a reduction of social life and real political participation to a pale substitute. What was a public, I said in the seventies, was becoming an audience (Phelan 1977).

Subsequent studies have borne out this view (Abramson et al. 1988, Herman and Chomsky 1988, Entman 1989, Chomsky 1991, Dahlgren and Sparks 1991, Greider 1992, Barnet and Cavanagh 1994, Krugman 1994), From 1972 to 1992 there has been a steeply rising curve of money and time spent on political campaign media, especially television, and it has directly matched a descending curve of actual political participation (Phelan 1992). Granted the hopeful presence of PeaceNet, EcoNet, the Electronic Frontier Foundation and the alleged role of the Internet in getting news out of Iraq, Iran, China, Russia and Mexico during recent crises, there is overwhelmingly greater evidence of big players and governments gaining net control the old fashioned way: by buying it and licensing it. Governments have more direct methods of control: the Clinton Administration has proposed the Clipper chip — a pre-installed opening for the US Feds to tap all communications, however encrypted. The Saudis, more traditionally, have already outlawed all private satellite downlinks and are putting their oceans of cash into a totally government controlled Wired Islam.

This dramatic conflict of empowerment hope in the face of disenfranchising reality is being played again, it seems, by telecomputed MUDs (Multi-User Dungeons [= fantasies]/Dimensions) and MUSES (Multi-User Simulated Environments.) Imaginatively, the Markle Foundation has funded Maxis to develop SimHealth as a device to educate the masses about the complexities of national healthcare policy; let’s hope it helps. But we already have the dispiriting paradox of our real inner cities and suburbs sinking into a Grimpen Mire (the grim foggy bog haunted by the Baskervilles’ hound) of actual ungovernability, as more and more bright people score brilliantly on SimCity. If real politics has degenerated into image management, who needs to bother with the real thing?

So we see the paradox of cyberspace, which enhances the illusion of images as reality because we can move and change the images and thus are deluded into thinking we are effective in the real world (Phelan 1984, 1988).

 Cybercells

In his trademark bizarre irony, Franz Kafka once wrote a letter to his betrothed imploring her to give up such obsessive correspondence with him, referring to a previous request in his last letter sent two hours earlier (Kafka 1987). I note that the ever-resourceful cyberworld has an on-line self-help usergroup for those who feel they are addicted to being on-line.

So a few fall a bit too deeply into the well, as one pioneering gathering place of disembodied scripts substituting for living presences is called. It affords not only a shared place of imagined story, as in MUDs, but an ongoing real-time conversation with a large number of globally scattered participants (IRC — Interactive Relay Chat).

What accounts for the stunning popularity of going on-line?

There is the magic of mysterious connection with the enchanted distant — something felt by youngsters in the 1920’s (like young Richard Feynman in Brooklyn) who manipulated the old crystal sets under the blankets when they were supposed to be asleep, pulling in signals from ships at sea and from dance bands in Cleveland. There is the desperate need for contact among the marooned, like ham radio operators in snowbound Alaska or isolated islanders in the Pacific. Some of those obsessively hooked by Electropolis, as it has been called, are undoubtedly of this stripe. But there are not enough socially uneasy adolescents or cut-off adults to account for the wild popularity of Internetting on Usenet, IRC, MUDs and other variants.

Not ignoring that over one-fourth of all American households have but a single occupant (not a misprint!), and taking due account that more and more people flit from one workplace to another since there are far fewer long-term employments, I think a catalytic ingredient in the on-line explosion is the growing number of adults who, either in an office or increasingly at home, work in front of a monitor screen all day. Like it or not, it is their workplace: a relentlessly no-nonsense workplace with no water cooler, no stair landings, no snack room, no commuting buddies in car pools, trains, or even elevators.

Just as those glued to their television sets for six or seven hours a night reasonably prefer sets with PIP (picture in picture) which let one see the action of more than one channel at once, to enhance surfing (at the loss of coherence, if you value that), so, too, do workers chained to computer monitors for eight or more hours a day naturally prefer to have a large screen with 16 million possible shades and hues of color, with a number of programs opened at once. This affords the equivalent of a room with a view, a corner office, lots of windows to look through with all sorts of action going on. If one can wave to friends out the window, even talk to them and get answers back, so much the better. That the window can see as far as Japan or Tahiti is a thrilling plus. Distance apart, cyberspace is a humanizing device for creating a kind of ersatz office/pub/common room/public square area for those deprived, rather cruelly, of one or more versions of the real thing. There are friendly conversations in bars and then there are those who observe scripted conversations at Cheers. If you can’t get to the former, you can at least, as it were, enter the set and talk back: CyberCheers.

A poignant note sounded by those engrossed in threading through cybertalk is how they are forced to use words to substitute for all the other physical cues of face-to-face conversations and IRL (in real life) settings — no mood music, no roaring sports fans, neither candlelight nor disco strobes. They thus have resorted to typographic signals like :—) (a smiley, look at it sideways). This is seen as an achievement and in a way of course it is. But it is stated in a context of reinventing the wheel. Shakespeare, who didn’t have special effects to create battle scenes or regal pageantry or mysterious moors to put on high-tech stages, instead put words in auditing ears, the listeners, the audience.

All creative writers are liberated as well as confined by words. Joyce managed to create an entire inner world as well as to evoke everyday Dublin only with words. Using words to create worlds is what literature does: it requires great skill, it has standards, it is richly varied, it is available without a connect fee, it can be taught; with great effort and talent you can learn to do it, or at least appreciate it. Like reading a musical score, reading literature requires not only education, but some sensitivity training, a developed sense of nuance. These powers must be brought to the keyboard. However long one’s days and nights in the blue glare of the screen, one cannot reach in and pull them out.

None of these rejections of thoughtless infomania and net-nuttiness is meant or felt to come from any Olympian height. Since the schools have imitated the old media in embracing marketing — reaching the most at the lowest cost for the highest possible price — one can see that young people, desperate for stimulation, gladly flee from the therapy-over-learning classroom to happily cruise on the Net, in the not unreasonable hope they might meet somebody more interesting.

I am on the Net and I have been using various parts of it for the last seven years. It is a remarkably efficient tool for tracking down bibliographic reference and vetted research citations (Knowledge Index™ is one of the best). When I can get an on-the-spot report of a riot in The [Johannesberg] Star over the net, it sure does beat driving two hours to the Sterling Memorial Library at Yale to get a day-old copy of the paper at best. But, like Samuel Florman, who fears that "flights through cyberspace, however energizing they may be for the imagination, may weaken the objective rationality needed to do good engineering", I agree with Alan Cromer that the formal linear thinking needed to do science "goes against the grain of traditional human thinking, which is associative and subjective" (Florman 1994).

Not just science, but literary and other studies, assuredly associative and serendipitous, are also largely linear. Literature is linear. We are led down a path by a master, a wizard, a sorcerer. He leads us to a wider world than we might ever know otherwise and we are permanently changed. One used to hear that Vietnam was still awaiting its novelist: meaning that the tangled confused hypertext of millions of disparate defeats and small victories and lies and photo-ops and press conferences make no emotional sense until some Tolstoy can lead us through the emotional and factual jungle to a deeper truth.

In this broader cultural context, cyberspace can in some ways be a step backwards. True, it enables us to do some things better than we can do in libraries; it can substitute for a laboratory if we don’t have one; it can get us to resources we might not otherwise find. But it is no substitute for guided linear thinking, for friendship, for travel, for learning the craft of writing or the equally daunting task of critical reading of demanding texts. Although cyberspace can be a place to go and get things to use, a place to ask questions and give answers, it is not a world of primary experience.

From this perspective, the tendency of some observers to reify an immense collection of unevenly useful databases and switched telecommunications links into a world where one "navigates" suggests a return to an earlier worldview long associated with primary orality and its well attested affinity for religion.

 

Back To The Future

 Over the centuries there has been a basic human desire for some kind of invisible mental or spiritual atmosphere which connects in some mystic way all the minds and hearts of mankind. Although often allied with religion (Christianity’s "Mystical Body"), this yearning goes back at least as far as the Pre-Socratics and their preoccupation with the One and the Many. For the medieval schoolmen mining the classic philosophers (not the Bible), there was the Agent Intellect, that part of the mind which enabled it to apprehend essences. A power within each individual mind, it nevertheless existed by sharing in one Great Agent Intellect, that was a kind of animating soul of the world. Hegel, much later, spoke of the Geist, not only of the Zeit but of the Welt (Kaufmann 1966, Olson 1992). In post-war France and later the rest of Europe and America, Teilhard de Chardin brought these ideas back for a while by resurrecting the Greek notion of nous (the conceiving and communicating mind — opposed to pneuma, the animating spirit) and speaking of the global "noosphere" (Teilhard 1959). In more recent years we have the newly fashionable "Gaia hypothesis" that the planet earth has a kind of intrinsic ecosystem-soul that keeps it in balance.

More than a decade after Teilhard’s phrase "everything that rises must converge" had been on English-speaking lips, the debut of Telstar, the first of a shining silver constellation of communications satellites, established a quotidian engineering footing of sorts for the grand mystic vision.

Further developments in the real world of affairs increasingly bolstered this originally airy notion of "convergence." The space program and the stunning pictures of earth, at first grainy black-and-white shadows of the great shapes familiar from maps, gave further impetus to the idea of convergence, of one world.

In less exalted terms, international trade and marketing abetted a growing trend toward a common popular culture of advertising, film, blockbuster books, and top tunes. The World’s Fairs in Brussels, New York, Osaka, Seattle, marching with the development of mass jet travel the world over, accelerated the internationalization of leisure pursuits and fashion through the sixties and seventies. Finally, the explosion to satellite communications in the eighties matched in the most recent years with fiberoptic switching systems and computer processing of cash, words, images, and data — the internetting of global consciousness — has swept up most human endeavors from local names and habitations into the global context of international trademarks, common credit cards, shared diets, world class athletics, and intercontinental rock concert tours.

Nowhere is this more true than in the spectacularly converging field of communications technologies, communications corporations, software standards and their correlative hardware open architectures.

In technology, we have phones that show pictures, computers that listen, keyboards that paint. We have books on tape and on disc, movies zipping along not only close to the speed of light but encoded in the form of light. Not only do Japanese manufacturers of tv sets and vcr’s own rock stars and movie vaults, but Apple and IBM have collaborated with Motorola in creating a new generation of microchip. Microsoft, still firmly on the desktop, is moving into the cable boxes atop tv’s.

Mainframes, long identified with monolithic, isolated and hierarchical megacorporations, have given way to PC’s, which in turn have formed local area networks, patched into wide area networks, using netware newly rendered interchangeable. The new arrangements have forced smart work on both management and labor. Editors have access to little more information than lights up the screens of the rest of the newsroom. The shopfloors of Toyota and Chrysler alike bristle with interfaces demanding decisions, once reserved for supervisors, from line workers.

In fact, the ubiquity of by now well established world pop culture, world finance, world trade, world tourism into one headless network has made the very idea of convergence so commonplace that we cannot see clearly the microstitching in the seemingly seamless garment. Like a Mandlebrot set, the picture of the whole diverges from the tiny iterations of detail but yet depends on them. If we miss the trees, we will be lost in the forest.

So a paradoxical merging of quite old and hoary concepts with modern industrial developments have informed the current enthusiasms and misconceptions about cyberspace. (Defined by Gibson with unconscious irony as "consensual hallucination." ) These influences are nowhere more evident than in the tendency of many otherwise hardheaded writers to describe cyberspace as "non-physical."

Everyone is aware that without computers, silicon, copper, plastic, fossil fuel for energy production, and many other humbly tangible physical things, the net could not be constituted nor even exist. But many forget that those magnetic or photonic ons-and-offs are physical, just as the electromagnetic wave forms of analog broadcasting are physical, although it must be granted their physicality is tenuous relative to the colossal freight of meaning they incrementally embody.

So deeming the content of Cyberspace "non-physical" presumably is thought to indicate that messages, designs, commands; in short, language itself and the entire symbol world, are meaningless without the interpretations of minds "plugged in" to the net. But in this sense, of course, all human action is "non-physical" from sex and singing to tea parties and rock concerts. Flesh, sound waves, tea sets, and megaboom-boxes are all just substrates that permit cultural and symbolic nets to have somewhere to land. But somehow many take typing on a screen as less material than whispering in a lover’s ear.

There is an irony here in that at the same time many take the headless mass of interconnected computer-neurons as some sort of world-soul and personify "it," many scientists (Crick 1994) and philosophers (Dennett 1992) forthrightly pronounce that there is no mind, no soul, only neurons within each individual. Neurons may be organized in the brain, but there is no Organization ordering the brain.

Are the positivist scientists out of sync with the latest intellectual fashion? Do all those formerly hard heads, once wired, go soft? Have the souls of Christianity and the tutelary spirits of wind, water and sacred grove once invoked by pagan Greece and Rome come back as software and information, which never diminish however often they are used?

Stay tuned.•

 

Bibliography

 

Abramson, Jeffry B., F. Christopher Arterton and Gary R. Orren (1988). The Electronic Commonwealth: The Impact of New Media Technologies on Democratic Politics. New York: Basic Books, Inc.

Barnet, Richard J., and John Cavanagh (1994). Global Dreams: Imperial Corporations and the New World Order. New York: Simon & Shuster.

Chomsky, N. (1991). Deterring Democracy. London: Verso.

Crick, Francis (1994). The Astonishing Hypothesis: The Scientific Search for the Soul. New York: Macmillan.

Dahlgren, Peter, and Colin Sparks (1991). Communication and Citizenship: Journalism and the Public Sphere. London: Routledge.

Dennett, Daniel (1992). Consciousness Explained. Boston: Little.

Entman, Robert M.  (1989). Democracy Without Citizens: Media and the Decay of American Politics. New York: Oxford University Press.

Florman, Samuel C. (1994). The Humane Engineer. Technology Review 97/3. (p. 65).

Greider, William (1992). Who Will Tell the People? The Betrayal of American Democracy. New York: Simon & Shuster.

Herman, Edward S., and Noam Chomsky. (1988). Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media. New York: Pantheon.

Kafka, Franz (1987). Letters to Felice Bauer. (Eds.: Erich Heller and Jürgen Born.) New York: Schocken.

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