Comprehending Moral Imperatives in a Me-centered World
Sermon by Rita Schiano
January 31, 2016
Two students at Indiana University, hungry for information and interested in what their peer group was thinking … and feeling that the news targeting their generation was generic and not resonant, decided to create a platform that flipped the traditional top-down editorial model.
Their goal was to enable local stories to be told on a national scale, and give talented writers and thought leaders of their generation the opportunity to express themselves and to be heard.
The platform, aptly named Odyssey, was a print publication originally, and it quickly became a catalyst for bringing people together around real conversations. In June 2014, Odyssey Online launched digitally, and now garners more than 16 million monthly unique visitors, with expectations of surpassing 100 million this year.
I learned about this platform on Facebook (where it seems of late I learn about most of what is happening.) You see, my niece Abby — well, my great-niece, actually. She is the eldest daughter of my nephew AJ. — is a freshman at Longwood University, where she is majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. Abby, I am quite proud to announce, is one of only 19 students from Longwood (and the only freshman, I might add) to be selected as an Odyssey contributing writer. Abby’s tagline reads: “Aspiring writer who possesses an affinity for dogs and is a firm believer in the happiness and equality of all humans.” I love that kid!
The editorial process at Odyssey is rigorous, and Abby must contribute one article per week to maintain her position.
Those of you with whom I am Facebook Friends know that I share Abby’s articles on my Facebook page. I could not be more proud; she already possesses some serious writing chops!
This past November I shared her article entitled, How Bernie Sanders is Creating a Spark in Our Generation's Hearts. Her article begins:You’re on the treadmill at the gym, heart racing as you count down the long, agonizing minutes until you can finally complete your gruesome workout. Although the music from your phone is more than likely blaring through your headphones, you glance up at the multiple televisions displaying various news stations.CNN and Fox News are discussing the 2016 election, as they so often are, when your eyes fall on a somewhat balding man who is probably old enough to be your grandpa. They show this man for a moment before they flash back to yet another talking head droning on about whatever Donald or Hillary has been up to recently, leaving you to not give this elderly man another thought as you continue your workout.I went on to read with interest, wondering, “Where is Abby going with this?” You see, Abby grew up in Virginia. And while I don't know her politics exactly, I do know that much of my family are die-hard Republicans, with a few Tea Partiers thrown in. (For the record, I am neither Republican nor Democrat. I am what the Commonwealth of MA ridiculously calls “un-enrolled”; I prefer Independent.)
Being true to her budding craft, Abby went on to postulate as to why the (and I quote) “younger generation has been able to see eye-to-eye with a 74-year-old white Senator . . . Bernie Sanders cares not only about the future of the nation, but the future of our generation, which can be characterized by one word, and one word alone: debt.”
In summation, she wrote: “But it isn’t only his stance on the cost of public education that’s fueling the fire in many of his supporter’s hearts. From his unwavering support of the LGBT community since the 1980s, his determined attitude to address the issue of climate change, his fight for women’s rights, to his open opposition to war - is it really a shock that so many people are beginning to jump on the Bernie express? His values and ideas aren’t anything revolutionary; they’re simply humane, fair, and morally just. Three qualities that American politics have been lacking and will continue to lack until we decide to do something about it.”
Now, some of you are probably wondering what this has to do with my topic “Comprehending Moral Imperatives in a Me-centered World.” I’m getting there.
As I said, I share Abby’s articles on my Facebook page. I want to expose her writing to as many people as possible. I want her to get feedback. And not just the positive “Wow! Great job, Abby!” but some honest, thoughtful discourse.
As it turned out, someone with whom I am a Facebook Friend wrote a lengthy response. Now, as with some Facebook Friends, this person is not a friend in the true sense of the word, but rather a business acquaintance, and a fellow writer. So I was quite pleased as I started to read his critical assessment. As a teacher, I embrace critical assessments. That is, after all, how we learn, how we stretch our critical and creative thinking processes, and expand our levels of understanding.
However … what began as critical analysis, devolved into a racist, bigoted, sexist, xenophobic rant and rave. In a flash, I cycled from grateful, to perplexed, to livid.
AUNTIE BEAR went on a tear. I deleted his comment from the thread….then went on to unfriend and block him from any further Facebook interaction. With the Italian in me still rising, I then went on to take a serious look back at some of the other racist, bigoted, sexist, xenophobic comments posted by people that had cycled through my timeline, and one by one I began to unfriend and block.
Once my Facebook “Hunt, Block, and Ban” was over, I sat back and thought about my actions and reactions. It wasn’t long before my sense of righteousness began to fade. I began to question what was the point, if any, behind my actions? Did I change anything? No. Granted, I have no interest in getting into an online pissing match with anyone. I prefer thought-provoking face-to-face (or at least ear-to-ear) discourse. Yet, my non-vocal response just felt wrong. And I could not put my finger on Why.
Later that day, I was searching the Internet for some articles to share with my students in my leadership class that addressed this vitriolic political climate. I found an article in Time Magazine, by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar entitled, “When Politicians Commit Hate Crimes.” (And I quote)
“… though we cherish our right to free speech in this country, we also acknowledge that we are not entitled to say anything we want when it can cause others to be harmed. When those who have governmental authority, such as police, or who command wide attention from the public, such as candidates and pundits, express contempt for any group, it emboldens the bigots to crawl out from beneath their tree stumps to openly express their prejudices because they believe they have tacit approval from those in authority.”
Suddenly, I knew my Why. My silence equaled tacit agreement.
The following morning I had a meeting to attend. While we were waiting for the last few stragglers to arrive, the woman sitting next to me got talking politics. Now, I don't think talking politics is a good idea in a business meeting, and so I chose to stay out of it . . .. until . . . the commentary, under the guise of humor, turned derogatory about the President, and Secretary Clinton …
While some joined in, I sat quiet, as did a few others. The snarky remarks continued …. I stayed quiet … but I could feel something roiling deep within. It was disappointment — disappointment in myself. And it was palpable.
Silence equals tacit agreement.
It was one of those moments where, in retrospect, I wish I had reeled it in a notched or two before I turned to the woman and blurted . . . “This conversation does not belong in this meeting. And don't for a moment think I agree with you.”
To say a hush fell over the room . . . is an understatement.
But as quickly as my ire rose, it subsided.
I turned to the woman and said, “I apologize for my outburst. I apologize for the tone of my voice, but I don't apologize for my words.”
I told her about the Facebook incident, complete with owning up to all my unfriending and blocking and banning. I asked if we could talk one-on-one for a few minutes after the meeting. Gratefully, she agreed.
We had a thoughtful conversation about the current political climate. We discovered that there were many concerns in which we were in agreement, …. though differed mostly on methodology. We parted amicably, still with our differing opinions, but with a deeper understanding of one another.
While driving home, thinking about my lessons learned spurred by niece’s article, I recalled another article written many years ago that was a turning point for me. It was the very first article I wrote for my high school newspaper, and the one I shared as today’s second reading.I wrote that in 1972. While in high school, I was a member of the Salt City Playhouse. That season the Playhouse was doing a production of Father Daniel Berrigan’s award-winning play, The Trial of the Catonsville Nine. I was too young for a role in the production, yet wanting to be involved, I served as an assistant to the stage manager.
One night during rehearsal, Father Berrigan came by to meet with the cast and crew. He spoke of being influenced by Dorothy Day and the pacifist Catholic Worker Movement, and of his experience with the worker-priest movement in France.He told us about his opposition to the Vietnam War, and the events that led up to the break-in at the Selective Service Offices in Catonsville, Maryland, and his active role in the burning of the hundreds of draft cards.His explanation of why he did it was simple. “It was a moral imperative,” he said. “We have a moral imperative to act on what we say we believe.” Meeting Father Berrigan and working on that play is what very likely spurred my interest in theology and philosophy, and to the writings of Immanuel Kant and Jean-Paul Sartre.
Kant sought to lay a foundational principle for analyzing commonsense ideas about morality.
Kant postulates that moral law cannot be merely hypothetical. Our actions cannot be moral on the grounds of some conditional purpose or goal. Morality requires an unconditional statement of one's duty.
We understand duty, we understand the moral imperative because it is an a priori principle, one that doesn't rely on experience, yet compels a person to act. Kant referred to this as a categorical imperative, a dictate of pure reason. Something we understand intuitively, like our understanding of the concepts of time and space.
In its practical aspect, a moral imperative is something that must happen because it is the right thing.
Moral standards prescribe how we ought to treat others; whereas ethical standards are how we ought to live ourselves.
I tell my students to remember the distinction this way: The ethical man knows that cheating on his wife is wrong; the moral man doesn’t do it.
One doesn’t have to embrace the concept of a priori knowledge to champion moral and ethical decisions and actions.
Jean-Paul Sartre and his philosophy of Existentialism holds that there is no objective standard of values, and no a priori principle.
While existentialists offer no moral milestones for judging ethical decisions, they do place great importance on authenticity. At the center of Sartre’s philosophy was an all-embracing notion of freedom and an uncompromising sense of personal responsibility.
“Our responsibility,” he writes, “is thus much greater than we had supposed, for it concerns mankind as a whole."
According to Sartre, it is only through acceptance of our responsibility that we may live in authenticity. To be responsible, to live authentically, means to make choices, intentionally, about one’s life and one’s future.
To be responsible, to live authentically is the inescapable condition of human life, the requirement of choosing something and then accepting the responsibility for the consequences of those choices, not only on our life, but the effect of those choices on others.
Thinking back to my choices … my outburst in the meeting and my “Hunt, Block, and Ban” actions on Facebook, I had to ask myself: Were my choices serving a moral imperative or were they simply moral indignation? Clearly, it was the latter.
While I thought my actions were morally right and justifiable arising from an outraged sense of justice . . . . my indignation, my anger served no purpose other than my own eventual realization — silence equals tacit agreement.
There is much good that plays out on social media. Social media provides a range of benefits and opportunities for people to empower themselves in a variety of ways through social benefits such as GoFundMe pages, the ability to disseminate useful information rapidly, as a means to facilitate social and political change.
Yet, I do think social media lacks an overall etiquette and social grace. Too often people engage in SMD – Social Media Diarrhea — spewing comments and content whether it’s meaningful or not, truthful or not, conscionable or not. SMD is clearly contagious with thousands upon thousands of people weighing in on every sound bite that becomes a hot topic in the social media landscape.
And when it comes to Hate Social Media Networks . . . .online groups with a mission to spread a message of hate about other racial, ethnic or religious groups . . . That is when I do think we must ask ourselves, what is the moral imperative . . . When we encounter these injustices, do we remain passive and silent, or do we intervene to try and stop it? Is it our problem, or someone else’s? Do we act on our principles? What are our responsibilities?
For many, the digital platform is exclusively egocentric . . . More solipsistic media than social media. For the non-philosophy geeks, solipsism is the theory that the self is all that can be known to exist. And so solipsists attach no meaning to the supposition that there could be thoughts, experiences, and emotions other than their own.
Without moral imperatives in our me-centered, selfie-obsessed, social media-driven world, we do risk a kind of ethical solipsism, the belief that no other moral judgment exists or matters outside of one’s own individual moral point of view.
Tariq Ramadan, Professor of Contemporary Islamic Studies at Oxford University wrote: “If people who cherish freedom, who know the importance of mutual respect and are aware of the imperative necessity to establish a constructive and critical debate, if these people are not ready to speak out, to be more committed and visible, then we can expect sad, painful tomorrows. The choice is ours.”
I’ve made my choice . . .
I choose . . . To stand up, speak up, and rise up against the negative narrative that is tearing up apart.
I choose . . . To educate myself by exploring all sides of the narrative with an open mind and with due diligence.
I choose . . . To counter that narrative thoughtfully, substantively, and accurately.
And to borrow from blogger TheJeremyNix in his Open Letter to his Friends who Support Donald Trump:
“I'm cool with you removing me from your friends list if you don't like what I have to say.”
Silence equals tacit agreement.
May it be so.
Sermon by Rita Schiano
January 31, 2016
Two students at Indiana University, hungry for information and interested in what their peer group was thinking … and feeling that the news targeting their generation was generic and not resonant, decided to create a platform that flipped the traditional top-down editorial model.
Their goal was to enable local stories to be told on a national scale, and give talented writers and thought leaders of their generation the opportunity to express themselves and to be heard.
The platform, aptly named Odyssey, was a print publication originally, and it quickly became a catalyst for bringing people together around real conversations. In June 2014, Odyssey Online launched digitally, and now garners more than 16 million monthly unique visitors, with expectations of surpassing 100 million this year.
I learned about this platform on Facebook (where it seems of late I learn about most of what is happening.) You see, my niece Abby — well, my great-niece, actually. She is the eldest daughter of my nephew AJ. — is a freshman at Longwood University, where she is majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. Abby, I am quite proud to announce, is one of only 19 students from Longwood (and the only freshman, I might add) to be selected as an Odyssey contributing writer. Abby’s tagline reads: “Aspiring writer who possesses an affinity for dogs and is a firm believer in the happiness and equality of all humans.” I love that kid!
The editorial process at Odyssey is rigorous, and Abby must contribute one article per week to maintain her position.
Those of you with whom I am Facebook Friends know that I share Abby’s articles on my Facebook page. I could not be more proud; she already possesses some serious writing chops!
This past November I shared her article entitled, How Bernie Sanders is Creating a Spark in Our Generation's Hearts. Her article begins:You’re on the treadmill at the gym, heart racing as you count down the long, agonizing minutes until you can finally complete your gruesome workout. Although the music from your phone is more than likely blaring through your headphones, you glance up at the multiple televisions displaying various news stations.CNN and Fox News are discussing the 2016 election, as they so often are, when your eyes fall on a somewhat balding man who is probably old enough to be your grandpa. They show this man for a moment before they flash back to yet another talking head droning on about whatever Donald or Hillary has been up to recently, leaving you to not give this elderly man another thought as you continue your workout.I went on to read with interest, wondering, “Where is Abby going with this?” You see, Abby grew up in Virginia. And while I don't know her politics exactly, I do know that much of my family are die-hard Republicans, with a few Tea Partiers thrown in. (For the record, I am neither Republican nor Democrat. I am what the Commonwealth of MA ridiculously calls “un-enrolled”; I prefer Independent.)
Being true to her budding craft, Abby went on to postulate as to why the (and I quote) “younger generation has been able to see eye-to-eye with a 74-year-old white Senator . . . Bernie Sanders cares not only about the future of the nation, but the future of our generation, which can be characterized by one word, and one word alone: debt.”
In summation, she wrote: “But it isn’t only his stance on the cost of public education that’s fueling the fire in many of his supporter’s hearts. From his unwavering support of the LGBT community since the 1980s, his determined attitude to address the issue of climate change, his fight for women’s rights, to his open opposition to war - is it really a shock that so many people are beginning to jump on the Bernie express? His values and ideas aren’t anything revolutionary; they’re simply humane, fair, and morally just. Three qualities that American politics have been lacking and will continue to lack until we decide to do something about it.”
Now, some of you are probably wondering what this has to do with my topic “Comprehending Moral Imperatives in a Me-centered World.” I’m getting there.
As I said, I share Abby’s articles on my Facebook page. I want to expose her writing to as many people as possible. I want her to get feedback. And not just the positive “Wow! Great job, Abby!” but some honest, thoughtful discourse.
As it turned out, someone with whom I am a Facebook Friend wrote a lengthy response. Now, as with some Facebook Friends, this person is not a friend in the true sense of the word, but rather a business acquaintance, and a fellow writer. So I was quite pleased as I started to read his critical assessment. As a teacher, I embrace critical assessments. That is, after all, how we learn, how we stretch our critical and creative thinking processes, and expand our levels of understanding.
However … what began as critical analysis, devolved into a racist, bigoted, sexist, xenophobic rant and rave. In a flash, I cycled from grateful, to perplexed, to livid.
AUNTIE BEAR went on a tear. I deleted his comment from the thread….then went on to unfriend and block him from any further Facebook interaction. With the Italian in me still rising, I then went on to take a serious look back at some of the other racist, bigoted, sexist, xenophobic comments posted by people that had cycled through my timeline, and one by one I began to unfriend and block.
Once my Facebook “Hunt, Block, and Ban” was over, I sat back and thought about my actions and reactions. It wasn’t long before my sense of righteousness began to fade. I began to question what was the point, if any, behind my actions? Did I change anything? No. Granted, I have no interest in getting into an online pissing match with anyone. I prefer thought-provoking face-to-face (or at least ear-to-ear) discourse. Yet, my non-vocal response just felt wrong. And I could not put my finger on Why.
Later that day, I was searching the Internet for some articles to share with my students in my leadership class that addressed this vitriolic political climate. I found an article in Time Magazine, by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar entitled, “When Politicians Commit Hate Crimes.” (And I quote)
“… though we cherish our right to free speech in this country, we also acknowledge that we are not entitled to say anything we want when it can cause others to be harmed. When those who have governmental authority, such as police, or who command wide attention from the public, such as candidates and pundits, express contempt for any group, it emboldens the bigots to crawl out from beneath their tree stumps to openly express their prejudices because they believe they have tacit approval from those in authority.”
Suddenly, I knew my Why. My silence equaled tacit agreement.
The following morning I had a meeting to attend. While we were waiting for the last few stragglers to arrive, the woman sitting next to me got talking politics. Now, I don't think talking politics is a good idea in a business meeting, and so I chose to stay out of it . . .. until . . . the commentary, under the guise of humor, turned derogatory about the President, and Secretary Clinton …
While some joined in, I sat quiet, as did a few others. The snarky remarks continued …. I stayed quiet … but I could feel something roiling deep within. It was disappointment — disappointment in myself. And it was palpable.
Silence equals tacit agreement.
It was one of those moments where, in retrospect, I wish I had reeled it in a notched or two before I turned to the woman and blurted . . . “This conversation does not belong in this meeting. And don't for a moment think I agree with you.”
To say a hush fell over the room . . . is an understatement.
But as quickly as my ire rose, it subsided.
I turned to the woman and said, “I apologize for my outburst. I apologize for the tone of my voice, but I don't apologize for my words.”
I told her about the Facebook incident, complete with owning up to all my unfriending and blocking and banning. I asked if we could talk one-on-one for a few minutes after the meeting. Gratefully, she agreed.
We had a thoughtful conversation about the current political climate. We discovered that there were many concerns in which we were in agreement, …. though differed mostly on methodology. We parted amicably, still with our differing opinions, but with a deeper understanding of one another.
While driving home, thinking about my lessons learned spurred by niece’s article, I recalled another article written many years ago that was a turning point for me. It was the very first article I wrote for my high school newspaper, and the one I shared as today’s second reading.I wrote that in 1972. While in high school, I was a member of the Salt City Playhouse. That season the Playhouse was doing a production of Father Daniel Berrigan’s award-winning play, The Trial of the Catonsville Nine. I was too young for a role in the production, yet wanting to be involved, I served as an assistant to the stage manager.
One night during rehearsal, Father Berrigan came by to meet with the cast and crew. He spoke of being influenced by Dorothy Day and the pacifist Catholic Worker Movement, and of his experience with the worker-priest movement in France.He told us about his opposition to the Vietnam War, and the events that led up to the break-in at the Selective Service Offices in Catonsville, Maryland, and his active role in the burning of the hundreds of draft cards.His explanation of why he did it was simple. “It was a moral imperative,” he said. “We have a moral imperative to act on what we say we believe.” Meeting Father Berrigan and working on that play is what very likely spurred my interest in theology and philosophy, and to the writings of Immanuel Kant and Jean-Paul Sartre.
Kant sought to lay a foundational principle for analyzing commonsense ideas about morality.
Kant postulates that moral law cannot be merely hypothetical. Our actions cannot be moral on the grounds of some conditional purpose or goal. Morality requires an unconditional statement of one's duty.
We understand duty, we understand the moral imperative because it is an a priori principle, one that doesn't rely on experience, yet compels a person to act. Kant referred to this as a categorical imperative, a dictate of pure reason. Something we understand intuitively, like our understanding of the concepts of time and space.
In its practical aspect, a moral imperative is something that must happen because it is the right thing.
Moral standards prescribe how we ought to treat others; whereas ethical standards are how we ought to live ourselves.
I tell my students to remember the distinction this way: The ethical man knows that cheating on his wife is wrong; the moral man doesn’t do it.
One doesn’t have to embrace the concept of a priori knowledge to champion moral and ethical decisions and actions.
Jean-Paul Sartre and his philosophy of Existentialism holds that there is no objective standard of values, and no a priori principle.
While existentialists offer no moral milestones for judging ethical decisions, they do place great importance on authenticity. At the center of Sartre’s philosophy was an all-embracing notion of freedom and an uncompromising sense of personal responsibility.
“Our responsibility,” he writes, “is thus much greater than we had supposed, for it concerns mankind as a whole."
According to Sartre, it is only through acceptance of our responsibility that we may live in authenticity. To be responsible, to live authentically, means to make choices, intentionally, about one’s life and one’s future.
To be responsible, to live authentically is the inescapable condition of human life, the requirement of choosing something and then accepting the responsibility for the consequences of those choices, not only on our life, but the effect of those choices on others.
Thinking back to my choices … my outburst in the meeting and my “Hunt, Block, and Ban” actions on Facebook, I had to ask myself: Were my choices serving a moral imperative or were they simply moral indignation? Clearly, it was the latter.
While I thought my actions were morally right and justifiable arising from an outraged sense of justice . . . . my indignation, my anger served no purpose other than my own eventual realization — silence equals tacit agreement.
There is much good that plays out on social media. Social media provides a range of benefits and opportunities for people to empower themselves in a variety of ways through social benefits such as GoFundMe pages, the ability to disseminate useful information rapidly, as a means to facilitate social and political change.
Yet, I do think social media lacks an overall etiquette and social grace. Too often people engage in SMD – Social Media Diarrhea — spewing comments and content whether it’s meaningful or not, truthful or not, conscionable or not. SMD is clearly contagious with thousands upon thousands of people weighing in on every sound bite that becomes a hot topic in the social media landscape.
And when it comes to Hate Social Media Networks . . . .online groups with a mission to spread a message of hate about other racial, ethnic or religious groups . . . That is when I do think we must ask ourselves, what is the moral imperative . . . When we encounter these injustices, do we remain passive and silent, or do we intervene to try and stop it? Is it our problem, or someone else’s? Do we act on our principles? What are our responsibilities?
For many, the digital platform is exclusively egocentric . . . More solipsistic media than social media. For the non-philosophy geeks, solipsism is the theory that the self is all that can be known to exist. And so solipsists attach no meaning to the supposition that there could be thoughts, experiences, and emotions other than their own.
Without moral imperatives in our me-centered, selfie-obsessed, social media-driven world, we do risk a kind of ethical solipsism, the belief that no other moral judgment exists or matters outside of one’s own individual moral point of view.
Tariq Ramadan, Professor of Contemporary Islamic Studies at Oxford University wrote: “If people who cherish freedom, who know the importance of mutual respect and are aware of the imperative necessity to establish a constructive and critical debate, if these people are not ready to speak out, to be more committed and visible, then we can expect sad, painful tomorrows. The choice is ours.”
I’ve made my choice . . .
I choose . . . To stand up, speak up, and rise up against the negative narrative that is tearing up apart.
I choose . . . To educate myself by exploring all sides of the narrative with an open mind and with due diligence.
I choose . . . To counter that narrative thoughtfully, substantively, and accurately.
And to borrow from blogger TheJeremyNix in his Open Letter to his Friends who Support Donald Trump:
“I'm cool with you removing me from your friends list if you don't like what I have to say.”
Silence equals tacit agreement.
May it be so.
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