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Rosenberg says it is human nature 'to enjoy giving and receiving in a compassionate manner.'
Human nature was shaped by our recent evolutionary past, during the species' tens of thousands of years on the African savanna. We're hierarchical, social primates: That past has included many a rough scrape--and a good deal of competition and fighting. There's scant evidence that 'giving and receiving in a compassionate manner' will bring humanity's mental tuning fork to harmony.
Feelings emerge from social interaction; they have a substantial involuntary component. Our purchase on reality will not be deepened by viewing them as an internal matter. Feelings are social.
This week we will be practicing identifying needs and trying to take statements where the speaker is not taking responsibility for their own feelings and translating statement into possible observation, feeling and need.
Not viewing the proposed exercise as a genuine avenue for moral uplift, I will sulk and mumble through the session with my reliably-anonymous game face, as if unvexed by vapidity.
Isn't it nice to be reminded that we have choices in how we receive a negative message from someone or from within ourselves?
That does not strike me as being especially information-laden, no.
One leads to compassionate conversation with self and others and others lead to contentious uncivil discourse.
There are a number of values to which I attempt fealty: Honor, honesty, openness, responsiveness, reasonableness, fairness, civility--to name some--none of which defines itself. (Hence blogging's invention.)
Of late the supreme importance of civility has become a popular shibboleth. You yourself often claim it your lodestar--in my view, mischievously. In 2010 bourgeois parlance, 'advocating civility' is viewed a courageous act of high-mindedness. In reality, it is self-love and self-promotion.
An ethically serious advocate should define civility, give illustrative examples, state whether incivility can be expressed silently, clarify when civility must take a back seat to other values, explain how infractions against civility should be addressed and show awareness for the evil constituted by overvaluing politeness.
People tend to view serious challenges (to their ideologies, values, identities, i.e.) as being illegitimate. Dogmatic assertions labeling statements as 'uncivil' should be greeted with skepticism: Our love of civility ought not give succor to McCarthyites--in whom we are already chest deep.
You list two alternatives for the future: 'Compassionate conversation' and 'contentious uncivil discourse.' This is a false dilemma--many other possibilities present themselves. A personal favorite: Contentious civil discourse.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
No Compassion
Marshall Rosenberg is the discoverer of Nonviolent Communication, a set of beliefs and practices supposedly designed to improve human interaction. Organizationally, NVC resembles a commercial enterprise--putting on workshops, hiring itself out for consulting and publishing uncheap textbooks.
I'm currently taking part in a multisessioned NVC course at a local Catholic church. NVC's supreme wisdom is taken as a given, but after several chapters the conscious reader takes note: Rosenberg is a shitty writer and NVC is a hodgepodge of stilted do-gooderisms, a Rosenberg self-promotion vehicle.
Like The Power of Now or anything by Deepak Chopra: A book which coos seductively to the gullible reader, 'You, reader, are morally superior to everyone else!'
Be a little more selfish, it might do you some good.
I mention I would prefer others not use NVC in their dealings with me, as I don't feel much need for a ratcheting up in middle class America's euphemism reliance. Our leader chides: 'That's so beginnerish!' Don't criticize NVC: These pacifists will mow you down.
All participants are assumed obedient 'non-idiots' and therefore keen on implementing NVC's ideological program within their lives. But why?
There are rules and there are metarules, as Slavoj Žižek says: There are formal rules and then there are [generally undiscussed] 'rules on how to implement the rules'. In Žižek's example, a suicidally brave audience member stands up and plangently abuses Josef Stalin--and we all know the result: The guy's a dead man.
But what if--as the ballsy heckler pauses--another audience member stands up and shouts, 'Hey! In this country, we don't criticize comrade Stalin!' Žižek argues that Dude #2 gets vaporized just as fast as Dude #1: Violating the metarule can be every bit as dangerous as violating the rule itself.
Questioning metarules--an entirely noble life project--I ask our NVC leader whether a good, well-informed person can believe that NVC is unworthy of adoption. A metarule reveals itself.
I'm currently taking part in a multisessioned NVC course at a local Catholic church. NVC's supreme wisdom is taken as a given, but after several chapters the conscious reader takes note: Rosenberg is a shitty writer and NVC is a hodgepodge of stilted do-gooderisms, a Rosenberg self-promotion vehicle.
Like The Power of Now or anything by Deepak Chopra: A book which coos seductively to the gullible reader, 'You, reader, are morally superior to everyone else!'
Be a little more selfish, it might do you some good.
I mention I would prefer others not use NVC in their dealings with me, as I don't feel much need for a ratcheting up in middle class America's euphemism reliance. Our leader chides: 'That's so beginnerish!' Don't criticize NVC: These pacifists will mow you down.
All participants are assumed obedient 'non-idiots' and therefore keen on implementing NVC's ideological program within their lives. But why?
There are rules and there are metarules, as Slavoj Žižek says: There are formal rules and then there are [generally undiscussed] 'rules on how to implement the rules'. In Žižek's example, a suicidally brave audience member stands up and plangently abuses Josef Stalin--and we all know the result: The guy's a dead man.
But what if--as the ballsy heckler pauses--another audience member stands up and shouts, 'Hey! In this country, we don't criticize comrade Stalin!' Žižek argues that Dude #2 gets vaporized just as fast as Dude #1: Violating the metarule can be every bit as dangerous as violating the rule itself.
Questioning metarules--an entirely noble life project--I ask our NVC leader whether a good, well-informed person can believe that NVC is unworthy of adoption. A metarule reveals itself.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Strong, Independent Women
DFL state representative Maria Ruud appears to have come up short on the first count--by 107 votes--or just under 1% of the ballots cast. I hadn't anticipated this result--and am saddened. I tend to have confidence in the competence and integrity of the local elections people--and so I consider it possible that Ruud will be found to have actually lost. (If I prove incorrect on this point, I will lift a non-alcoholic glass.)
Not having paid much attention to the 42A campaign, I nonetheless have an armchair analysis:
The rightish national mood turned out to have a pronounced local manifestation, beefed up with an intense anti-Ruud drumbeat on the local paper's letters page.
From the perspective of the Ruud campaign strategist--putting oneself back into the frame of mind of some months ago: 'What are our options?'
A) We can respond to the various charges and tar our opponent as 'being negative'; or
B) We can speak persuasively about our candidate's identity, record and program and/or decide upon an analysis of our opponent and attack him relentlessly for the shortcomings we identify.
Team Ruud made the error of relying excessively on A. Even this morning--four days after the election--Ruud's website says:
"My opposition [OMG!] has chosen to run a negative campaign and distort my record. The direct mail pieces and robo-calls you may have received and the television ads you may have seen are filled with half-truths, information taken out of context and errors of omission."
The paragraph above reveals a rattled psychic state: If I am the opponent, I cannot help but note that I have succeeded in getting under the incumbent's skin--and (as any devoted chess player will admit) that doesn't make me feel one bit guilty.
A portion of the liberal public has been under a dumb misapprehension, lately--that 'negative campaigning' is categorically immoral. It's a pat, prudish viewpoint, designed to convince its adherent of his own ethical purity--but the stance is not in fact philosophically convincing.
When in politics you make sincere, credible, rational attacks against the character, party or program of your opponent, the public is unfazed. Among many 42A citizens, Kirk Stensrud was perceived to be lobbing reasonable, fair attacks against the incumbent.
The incumbent responded with petulance, as can be observed in the quotation above. On the central 'taxation' and 'big-spending' charges--Ruud failed to take the focus back onto her opponent's shortcomings, or persuade people that economic growth was uppermost among her priorities.
When attacked we too often seek justification for classifying the challenge as below-the-belt. In day-to-day living, we observe most people's default response to any personal or ideological challenge: to play the scandalized traditionalist.
But if in private life one can extricate one's arse from challenges (even legitimate ones) with a tilted neck and the back of one's hand on one's forehead--one can't get away with such conduct in the political world, in which a gallery is keeping score.
The reactive, 'hurt' response to the Stansrud challenge harmed Ruud's prospects further. Ruud had to articulate hard-hitting, persuasive slams against Stensrud while projecting self-confidence and equanimity. Instead, she appeared hurt as she implied she should be considered above criticism.
Not having paid much attention to the 42A campaign, I nonetheless have an armchair analysis:
The rightish national mood turned out to have a pronounced local manifestation, beefed up with an intense anti-Ruud drumbeat on the local paper's letters page.
From the perspective of the Ruud campaign strategist--putting oneself back into the frame of mind of some months ago: 'What are our options?'
A) We can respond to the various charges and tar our opponent as 'being negative'; or
B) We can speak persuasively about our candidate's identity, record and program and/or decide upon an analysis of our opponent and attack him relentlessly for the shortcomings we identify.
Team Ruud made the error of relying excessively on A. Even this morning--four days after the election--Ruud's website says:
"My opposition [OMG!] has chosen to run a negative campaign and distort my record. The direct mail pieces and robo-calls you may have received and the television ads you may have seen are filled with half-truths, information taken out of context and errors of omission."
The paragraph above reveals a rattled psychic state: If I am the opponent, I cannot help but note that I have succeeded in getting under the incumbent's skin--and (as any devoted chess player will admit) that doesn't make me feel one bit guilty.
A portion of the liberal public has been under a dumb misapprehension, lately--that 'negative campaigning' is categorically immoral. It's a pat, prudish viewpoint, designed to convince its adherent of his own ethical purity--but the stance is not in fact philosophically convincing.
When in politics you make sincere, credible, rational attacks against the character, party or program of your opponent, the public is unfazed. Among many 42A citizens, Kirk Stensrud was perceived to be lobbing reasonable, fair attacks against the incumbent.
The incumbent responded with petulance, as can be observed in the quotation above. On the central 'taxation' and 'big-spending' charges--Ruud failed to take the focus back onto her opponent's shortcomings, or persuade people that economic growth was uppermost among her priorities.
When attacked we too often seek justification for classifying the challenge as below-the-belt. In day-to-day living, we observe most people's default response to any personal or ideological challenge: to play the scandalized traditionalist.
But if in private life one can extricate one's arse from challenges (even legitimate ones) with a tilted neck and the back of one's hand on one's forehead--one can't get away with such conduct in the political world, in which a gallery is keeping score.
The reactive, 'hurt' response to the Stansrud challenge harmed Ruud's prospects further. Ruud had to articulate hard-hitting, persuasive slams against Stensrud while projecting self-confidence and equanimity. Instead, she appeared hurt as she implied she should be considered above criticism.
**
I offer the views above in good faith and with this caveat: I have myself sought political office on several occasions--and have achieved electoral results considerably worse than anything Maria Ruud has ever feared.**
I just noticed Jill Clayburgh's passing--and so pulled up the actress' New York Times' obituary. And I was surprised to see the article's jarringly clichéd lede:Jill Clayburgh, an Oscar-nominated actress known for portraying strong, independent women, died on Friday at her home in Lakeville, Conn. She was 66.The assumption that a satifactorily 'progressive' actress must seek out roles as strong, independent women is getting quite old, isn't it? I mean, the notion is simply stupid, isn't it?
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