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Volume
Six, Number Three (February 2005)
"What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them
how."
–W.
Wordsworth, from "The Prelude"
NOTES FROM READERS
What you think
It's snowing here in Rockford today – and Spring Break begins at the end of the week. It is that wonderful moment of transition in the seasons that makes life in the upper Midwest so fascinating!
A couple of missives from Iowa-based readers in response to the last issue of Notes:
Penny Wills, president of Northeast Iowa Community College , writes, “I am a recent subscriber to your newsletter and I want to simply say thank you! As a new president, I have a steep learning curve and so much to read. When I received each of your last two issues, I first think, oh I don't have time to read all of this! Then I save until I get out of problem solving/meeting mode and treat myself to reflect on why I'm in this business in the first place! And each time, I find something in your thoughts that gets my heart pumping again! . . . I fully agree with the 6 myths (Notes 6:2 on myths of creativity)! My predecessor did wonderful things for the college but his hallmark was on competition and my style is collaboration. Trying to build a stronger internal community which isn't exhausted like I found them.” Thanks, Penny – and best wishes.
Susan Moritz from Iowa Public Television writes, “Your discussion of freedom in the most recent notes triggered some discussion here. I was recently at the send off ceremony for one of my colleagues whose national guard unit is going to Kosovo for 14 months. As you might imagine, the language there was very different from the conversation here at public television. The commander made some striking points about the soldiers being people who cared more about the ideals of freedom than their own personal safety or comfort. It began again that debate in my head about patriotism vs. pacifism. This particular unit is a public relations/communications group with a mission to help establish effective free press in Kosovo – certainly a noble cause. Many of the soldiers in Iraq are rebuilding hospitals and schools – also a noble cause.
My brother is retired air force and fought in the first Gulf War. He is also very much a man of faith and compassion. He feels the work the military is currently being called on to do is not appropriate for the military – that their structure should be for combat and people in other roles should do the rebuilding.
When and how is an evil in a society determined to require action. At what price? What responsibility or right do we have to make this determination for others? Any ideas about this?” Faithful readers - any thoughts about these pressing and important questions?
Occasionally, I (or my colleagues) refer to items from previous issues of Notes. If you have not been a subscriber previously, and wish to review our conversations, past issues of Notes are available online at www.jgacounsel.com . The website version of Notes also includes helpful hyperlinks to sources for purchasing or subscribing to the various publications mentioned in Notes. I thank my friends at Johnson, Grossnickle & Associates for their many years of abiding support for our reflective practice.
REFLECT ON THIS
Forgiveness and peace
I often remark to participants in my ethics workshops that the most important moral skill we need to learn is how to ask for and receive forgiveness. We will make mistakes – as individuals, as organizations, as communities – the question is what will we do when we realize our mistakes? Go arrogantly on – or apologize and ask those we've hurt to forgive us so that we might go on together?
A recent issue of Greater Good (Fall 2004) reprinted essays from a forum on forgiveness, among which was an article by Aaron Lazare entitled “Making Peace Through Apology.” As you might imagine the essay specifically addresses the current controversies surrounding the U.S. presence in Iraq , and specifically the Abu Ghraib prison scandal. Lazare suggests that “Some apologies encourage forgiveness and reconciliation; others only make things worse.” So, how to tell the difference?
Lazare suggests, based on extensive research, that an effective apology has four parts (though not every effective apology requires all four). They are as follows:
- A valid acknowledgement of the offense that makes it clear who the offender is and who is the offended. The offender must clearly and completely acknowledge the offense.
- An effective explanation, which shows an offense was neither intentional nor personal, and is unlikely to recur.
- Expressions of remorse, shame and humility, which show that the offender recognizes the suffering of the offended.
- A reparation of some kind, in the form of a real or symbolic compensation for the offender's transgression.
[I can't help but think of my four-year-old son's muttered “sorry” for his offense against his one-year-old sister – there may be real parallels between childhood experience and adult behavior in this regard!]
Lazare goes on to show how an effective apology must satisfy at least one of seven psychological needs of an offended person (or entity):
- The restoration of dignity
- The affirmation that both parties have shared values and agreement that the harm committed was wrong
- Validation that the victim was not responsible for the offense
- The assurance that the offended party is safe from a repeat offense
- Reparative justice, which occurs when the offended sees the offending party suffer through some sort of punishment
- Reparation, when the victim receives some form of compensation for his/her pain
- A dialogue that allows the offended parties to express their feelings toward the offenders and even grieve over their losses
As Lazare concludes, “When an apology meets an offended person's needs, he does not have to work at forgiving. Forgiveness comes spontaneously; the victim feels like his offender has released him of a burden or offered him a gift.”
Trust in public
I was in London in January visiting our study abroad campus there, and had the opportunity to take a day trip to Cambridge . While there I stopped in at the Cambridge University Press Bookstore and found a book by Onora O'Neill entitled A Question of Trust (Cambridge University Press, 2002). Ms. O'Neill, who is Principal of Newnham College, Cambridge , offers an accessible and intriguing analysis of the issue of public trust in democracy.
I find that more and more the issue of what constitutes the public trust and how such trust is earned by individuals and organizations is on the top of the lists for discussion and conversation by students, professionals, board members and other good citizens. Think Enron and Worldcom, governmental and public official scandals, nonprofit mismanagement and lack of communication and accountability, professional malpractice and decreasing concern for public practices. The list goes on and I believe that O'Neill's analysis and commonsense approach to the issues of public trust are worth considering.
O'Neill begins here: “Trusting is not a matter of blind deference, but of placing—or refusing—trust with good judgement. So we need social and political institutions that allow us to judge where to place our trust.” The problem is, though, that the ways we choose to increase trust often undermine our capacities to be trusting. To paraphrase O'Neill: We proclaim human rights with enthusiasm but forget to see whether rights are compatible with each other. We set ambitious performance targets for public bodies but are blind to the perverse incentives they create. We try to micro-manage complex institutions and wonder why we get over-complex and inadequate governance. We try to judge quality by performance indicators rather than seeking informed and independent evaluation. We aspire to complete transparency in public life but neglect the more fundamental goal of limiting deception.
O'Neill's response to this analysis is fairly straightforward. We need to accept the central role that trust plays in our common lives and then also accept that not everyone will trust. We need to be cautiously suspicious of the claims made by our public bodies and organizations so that we can demand genuine trust in public. We need to recognize the many, many ways in which all of us do actively trust each other day in and day out – and build additional trust from that foundation.
O'Neill then proceeds on both philosophical and practical grounds to describe how we might understand and practice trusting in public. A few examples are instructive:
- O'Neill agrees with Simone Weil that “duties (or obligations) are prior to rights” – which turns much of contemporary political philosophy on its head. If we think rights are the pre-condition of social and political trust, then we will remain passive and do nothing until our rights are respected. If, however, we accept the active duties of being human, we will realize that acting in a trusting manner is a precursor to demanding rights of each other. Even in the darkest social times, O'Neill argues, the duties of building a culture of trust can be pursued (by building trustworthy institutions, defying unjust authorities, refusing to sit back and wait for our entitled rights to be honored) and thereby whatever rights we share will be earned by our actions.
- The growing lack of trust in professionals (doctors, attorneys, teachers, clergy, and so forth) in society would appear to reflect a “crisis” for our public lives. O'Neill shows how our attempts to build perfect accountability for these professionals – the way we hope to overcome the crisis – may actually exacerbate the problem. We attempt to control professions and professionals through more public controls and sanctions. We demand accountability, imposing more control on professional work, leading to what O'Neill thinks is the “distorting of the proper aims of professional practice.” In turn, professionals fight back by becoming more leery of trusting clients and patients (think about doctors who are going to great lengths to protect themselves from litigious individuals and communities), creating a culture of distrust (not to mention harming those who professionals were trained to serve) – quite the opposite of what is intended. Instead O'Neill calls for an intelligent accountability , characterized more by good governance and less by total control. And good governance comes from within organizations and professions – self-governance leads to the pursuing of accountability rather than relying on its imposition.
- As for trust and the information explosion in our public (and private) lives, O'Neill believes that we must be careful about the call for transparency that seems to characterize the effort to build trust in regards to protecting us from the misuse of information. Common wisdom today seems to be that if we are transparent in our organizational and personal dealings, everyone will have access to all the relevant information and we won't need to worry that any untoward behavior is afoot. O'Neill points out that this enthusiasm for transparency may actually be the source of mistrust – being open and candid about information is no guarantee that we aren't being open and candid with “bad” information. Instead, O'Neill points to the fact that our clearest images of trust do not link to openness or transparency at all. Think about the family or about professional relationships between doctor and patient. These highly trusting relationships are often premised on keeping confidences, respecting privacy, and so forth. Her point is that in order to restore trust in public life, we need to focus more attention on reducing lies and deception, rather than on overcoming secrecy.
I think you begin to get a sense of the logic of O'Neill's argument for building and sustaining trust. The book is a quick and intriguing read – and a helpful and insightful reminder of how the remedy for mistrust (and the basis for trust) in our public lives may be a return to some of the fundamental values of a democratic social ethic, whereby strangers negotiate their lives together in a messy but ultimately negotiable world.
PRACTICE THIS
Putting Mission First
The Harvard Business Review does not often address issues of nonprofit organizations, but when it does, it usually makes some fairly provocative claims. Such is the case in the February 2005 issue of the HBR, where authors William Foster and Jeffrey Bradach ask “Should Nonprofits Seek Profits?”
The article addresses the trend among nonprofits to increase earned-income ventures (and reduce reliance on fundraising) and suggests that there is a huge gap between rhetoric and reality when it comes to the success of this trend. The authors conclude that “Despite the hype, earned-income accounts for only a small share of funding in most nonprofit domains, and few of the ventures actually make money.”
Perhaps most important, though, claim the authors, this widespread trend begs the question of how carefully and responsibly nonprofits are focused on their missions. I will allow you to draw your own conclusions from the article's data and logic, but I did find the authors' framework for considering how any new venture contributes (or detracts) from organizational mission to be quite helpful. The framework asks eight questions:
• What set of mission-focused activities should be our highest priorities?
• If we had additional, unrestricted philanthropic dollars, would these activities still be our top priorities? In other words, have we made an impartial assessment of our mission priorities?
• Do any of these activities have the potential to generate earned income? If so, which ones do and how would they do it?
• Would generating earned income in this manner compromise our mission, perhaps by excluding some of our target beneficiaries from the goods or services we sell? How much management time and other resources would the venture probably consume? What's the worst case scenario for the venture, and what would that scenario mean for our mission and finances?
If, after asking these questions, the venture still appears promising, then ask:
• Taking into account any constraints or disadvantages we would have in running a commercial enterprise, what is a preliminary but reasonable estimate of the financial potential for each activity? Have we fully accounted for all direct and indirect costs in estimating profit (management salaries, facility costs, other overhead)?
• What additional amount of philanthropic funding would be needed to fully finance the activity?
• Given the estimated philanthropic requirements of each activity (full cost minus earned-income contribution), which activities deliver the most mission-related impact per philanthropic dollar? (A mission-promoting activity that covers half its costs through earned income could have more impact per philanthropic dollar than a less mission-focused activity that covers three-quarters of its costs.)
• Would other new or existing activities that don't earn income bring a greater impact per philanthropic dollar contributed?
The article's primary point – that a mission-first assessment of earned-income opportunities also returns the nonprofit sector to its fundamental principles – seems right on target to me. The reasons we exist – our missions – point to public needs and goods that are critical to our common well-being – we cannot afford to lose sight of that core fact of our work.
Topical redux
I've come across relevant quotes and ideas on a few topics we have addressed in past issues of Notes.
Our teachers
A wonderful recent issue of Christian Century ( February 22, 2005 ) has a series of reflections by distinguished theologians about their teachers.
My former colleague at Wabash College , Professor William Placher, writes of his teacher at Yale Divinity School , David Kelsey, with these fitting words:
“Most development as a teacher, however, comes from cultivating intellectual virtues. In leading a seminar, really listen to your students . . . Make it clear that you consider the work of the class important . . . If the subject is really important, then you have thought about it a lot . . . (I) do deliberately talk of “virtues” rather than “skills.” It isn't just good technique. One has to become in some ways—not in every way, but in some ways—a better person in order to be a better teacher.”
Mixed motivations
“The horrific aftermath of the South Asian tsunami perplexes us all. Certainly as a reminder of the awesome power of nature to disrupt our lives, the waves could not be more jarring and frightening. They challenge our understanding of ourselves and our relation to the world in which we live, not to mention our sense of divine activity in our midst and the capacity to control our fate.
At the same time, the tsunami disaster has prompted much of the developed world to wring its hands and reflect on its philanthropic life. Are we a generous people, as some trumpet with pride? Or are we stingy, as others indict? It is perhaps unfortunate that it takes such a wrenching crisis to raise these questions, but there they are – the paradox of our philanthropy. And like it or not, humans are both generous and stingy (often at the same time) - and the challenge we face is how to live with the paradox.” (from my occasional column in Contributions, forthcoming)
On professional education
Friend and colleague, William Sullivan, who was one of the co-authors of Habits of the Heart and Good Society, and who has written about the professions and public philosophy, now works at the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, where he heads a project on educating professionals. In a recent e-newsletter, Bill writes:
“The idea of the professional as neutral problem-solver, above the fray, which was launched with great expectations a century ago, is now obsolete. A new ideal of a more engaged, civic professionalism must take its place…Today's professional schools will not serve their students well unless they foster forms of practice that open possibilities of trust and partnership with those the professions serve…Professional education must promote the opening of professional life to meet clients and patients as also fellow citizens…A new civic awareness within professional preparation could go a long way toward awakening awareness that the authentic spirit of each professional domain represents more than a body of knowledge or skills. It is a living culture…an asset of great social value.”
Our vocations
In the March 2005 issue of Fast Company , columnist Marshall Goldsmith tells this story about leadership guru, Warren Bennis:
“He (Bennis) openly reflected upon his personal struggles—not as a teacher of leadership but as a practitioner of leadership—when he was president of the University of Cincinnati. His voice noticeably quavered as he recalled one of the most important moments of his career. As he was speaking to a university audience in his presidential role, one of his friends in the room unexpectedly asked: “Do you love what you do?”
A long awkward silence filled the room as he pondered the question. As a president, he searched for the right answer, but as a human, he wanted the real answer. Finally, in a quiet voice, he replied, “I don't know.”
That revelation plunged Bennis into deep reflection. It dramatically altered his path through life. He had always thought that he wanted to be president of a university. It had not dawned on him that after he got there he might not actually enjoy the life of a university president.
Do you love what you do? This may be the seminal question of our age.
PAY ATTENTION TO THIS
Resources for your reflective practice
As you know, I am a great fan of Wendell Berry's work. I've come across two relatively new Berry books – both are compilations of essays on various topics. Citizenship Papers (2003, Shoemaker and Hoard) and In the Presence of Fear: Three Essays for a Changed World (2003, The Orion Society). Both books contain Berry 's provocative post 9-11 reflections.
The latest periodical to cross my desk with consistently strong content is National Civic Review , published by Wiley/Jossey-Bass. A recent issue addressed the topic of journalism and public knowledge from a variety of angles – good stuff. For more information, visit the National Civic League website at www.ncl.org .
A man said to the universe
The late 19 th century American poet, Stephen Crane, writes these words of humble reminder.
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
“A sense of obligation.”
Subscription information
Subscriptions to Notes are simple to establish. Send me an email at president@rockford.edu, ask to be added to the list, and the listserv will confirm that you have been subscribed to the list. Please feel free to forward your email versions of Notes to others—they then can subscribe by contacting me. The current and archive issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com .
Topics for the next issue (April 2005)
- Extraordinary conversations – why and how…
- Some thoughts on service above self
(c) Paul Pribbenow, 2005
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